Never Be Free
by Noirreigne
Summary: Except you enthrall me, never shall be free. Blair and Chuck Future Fic after 2x17.
1. Chapter 1

He watched her from a distance. She stood aloof from the hoard in the ballroom a flute of obligatory champagne between her fingers. He always planned on seeing her again. Preferably sometime after his heart had eviscerated every sliver of her existence. In the intervening years he had often wondered what her life was like. He would never ask, but he had gleaned a few facts slipped like precious pearls from the careless tongues of Serena and Nate to hazard a guess. He often pondered taking the route of dear old Dad, showing his love through stalking. Instead he decided to be mature. A word he once thought only pertained to whether the girl he was trying to screw was legal.

She watched him covertly, never catching his eye. A valuable skill she had learned hosting far too many political parties for numerous causes. This was not a party she normally would attend. She had only a passing acquaintance with the host and his very irritating much younger bride, but she couldn't pass up a chance to see him. She correctly assumed that Chuck would wish to be present for the wedding party of one of his largest hotel partners. His gaze burning her like the sun through a magnifying glass she turned gliding in the opposite direction of the dancing crowds and towards the gardens, hoping he would follow.

Chuck had no choice but to follow. Ever since her immigration to British foreign soil he vowed never to travel anywhere in the United Kingdom. It had been surprisingly easier than expected considering that the country was the size of Maine and surrounded by water. That they should both be in Paris and at the same wedding party forced his hand. They would finally end the détente between them that existed for eight years.

The moon, a silver fishhook, illuminated Blair. The crystal beads of her dress trembled like drops of early morning dew with the rise and fall of her chest. Silent he watched, waiting for her to acknowledge the intrusion of her space. Unable to ignore him any longer she gave in turned to face him.

"Chuck." The name emerged from the depths of her soul, breaking free from the chains and locks it had been bound in.

"Blair." He mocked, not bothering to hide his contempt. Steadfast he held her gaze until she was compelled to look away. Uncharacteristically flustered she focused on the night blooming jasmine that perfumed the air. She racked her brain trying to recall from her botany class the Latin name for it anything to keep her focused. Even now after everything she still came undone in his presence.

"I would say I was pleased to see you, but I don't think you'd believe me."

Chuck regarded her, like a he drank in the changes eight years had made. "You're right I wouldn't."

He had always known Blair would age beautifully, but it pained him that she looked lovelier today than she had at eighteen. The glowing look of youthful, yet in her case non-existent innocence, had matured into something beyond stunning. The same mahogany curls still framed her face, but her slender adolescent body had ripened into curves that held the promise of sexual delights not yet tasted. It was hard to reconcile the Blair of his dissolute youth with the one that stood before him now.

"I can see you have yet to learn the art of tact," she said, her lips quirking to herald a forthcoming smile. He was just as she remembered. Damn him! Technically she knew he was no longer the reprobate bad boy of the UES, but he still had that unmistakable aura of dark sensuality. Since she would rather give up every Christian Louboutin she owned than ask Serena about Chuck's life she had been forced to take the route of making discrete inquiries through a very expensive private firm. Although still a notorious womanizer Chuck had taken Bass Industries further than his father ever dreamed. Branching out into oil alternatives, nanotechnology and experimental pharmaceuticals he had doubled the company's worth. It frustrated and pleased her to no end that he had accomplished so much.

Smirking Chuck moved nearer, closing in on the little space remaining between them. He was so close she just merely had to reach out and her hand and it would tangle in his hair. "Are you offering to teach me? Unfortunately, I have no desire to graduate from Blair Waldorf's school of bitch."

"It's Blair Errol now. Lady Errol to you," she countered sharply.

"Serena mentioned you whored yourself a fairy tale." Chuck bowed mockingly. "Lady Errol."

"I am not a whore! " She yelled her control strung taunt snapping. "If anyone is a whore it's you. I'm not the one who spent a month in a brothel when my father died or ended up a member of some crazed sex society. You're the whore! A big stupid man whore!"

"I prefer connoisseur of the female form," he said smugly.

"More like connoisseur of herpes and syphilis. It must save Bass Industries a lot of money in research and development to be able to use their own CEO to test their STD drugs on," she said, witheringly.

"Why Blair, I never realized you took such an interest in me," Chuck drawled, inordinately pleased at her knowledge of his successes. "Society owes a great debt to me. Without my company herpes would still be incurable, destroying the sex lives of so many very lovely ladies. Paris Hilton thanked me personally twice−" Chuck tapped his chin lightly with his finger pretending to contemplate the matter. "Or was it three times? There was even talk about a Nobel for my contributions, apparently scientists like clean pussy." He shrugged, affecting bemusement. "Who knew?"

"You disgust me," Blair seethed. "You're even more revolting than I remember."

"Maybe so, but at least I am honest in my affairs. I don't use lofty professions of love to justify my desire for a good fucking." His voice mellowed to a husky whisper, but his eyes met hers bitter and accusing. He closed the small gap that existed between them towering over her, intimidating. He reached with tenderness, running a finger along the side of her cheek, ignoring the slight tremble she quickly repressed. Chuck bent slowly closer, cupping her chin, smiling when she leaned into his touch. "If it was the fucking you loved you just had to say so."

Blair slapped him hard. The smacking sound of her hand hitting flesh rang like a gunshot in their ears. Releasing her chin, Chuck fell back from the unexpected blow.

"You have no idea what you are talking about." Chest heaving, her eyes clawing him like talons, she stepped away putting much needed space between them. Shaken by her uncharacteristic violence she shut down, mentally shoving her emotions into the vintage Louis Vuitton trunk she had created in her psyche long ago. Brimming over the trunk refused to close regardless of how hard she shoved it close.

"I did love you," she sighed, her voice full of anguish. She bit her lips as a rebellious tear managed to escape, to roll down her face. He watched the tears descent fascinated by her unexpected lapse of control.

"Still lying to yourself?" Chuck studied her face intently, his lips curling arrogantly. He reached out awestruck, smearing it with the pad of his thumb before she could wipe it away. He came closer, lowering his face next to hers. His rough cheek rasped against hers, his lips hovering over her ear, his breath causing tendrils of hair to dance along the tips of her ears.

Blair swallowed hard, drawn to him even as his words battened against her walls. Against her wishes she found herself coming forward to meet him. She stiffened as his hands slid down tightening around her. His fingers whirled intricate patterns over her shoulders and down her back. His touch, his nearness was making it impossible to resist.

"Whatever you felt for me was not love. Love is more than spouting some Blair and Chuck and Chuck and Blair nonsense. When faced with something less than your vision of perfect idealized love you destroyed it by running away," he murmured.

He pulled her closer to him, taking full advantage he ground his hips against hers, her body writhing sinuously against his. Sensing her surrender his lips painted kisses along her neck, making her his. Yearning, longing with desire, Blair gave in. He responded, gripping her tighter, his lips whispering in her ear.

"You left without a note, a text or even a fuck you. You didn't even wait a month before shacking up and marrying a Lord Marcus clone. Only in your fucked up fantasy world is that love. "

Blair stiffened in anger, furious at him but even more so at herself. Filled with self-disgust she used all of her strength to push him away. He released her, taking a step back, but making sure she was still within arm's reach. She was humiliated at her lack of control, how easily he was able to evoke a response from her body despite all her efforts to resist. She hated that he made her feel weak, helpless to her own desires.

Her discomfort grew as he continued to observe her as if she meant nothing to him; as if she was an insect he'd smashed under his shoe. Blair tilted her head defiantly, narrowing her whiskey colored eyes. She was a peer of the realm, Lady Blair Errol, wife of the twelfth Earl of Dorincourt. She managed a staff of twenty, entertained heads of state and had even blackmailed the prime minister for a good cause, of course.

"I did love you Chuck. When your father died you went crazy constantly looking for your next fix. All that mattered was drugs, alcohol, whores and God knows what else. You made it a point to show me how little I meant to you. I lost Yale, my life was in ruins disintegrating piece by piece and you couldn't even be bothered to talk to me. I wasn't going to stay and watch you destroy yourself when I was dying inside," she cried.

"I get it Blair. I was an ass, but you were supposed to wait," he retorted contemptuously.

"What was I supposed to wait for?" She stared at him in disbelief. " You were more than happy to remind me I was not your girlfriend and your fucking every cheap, fake baked tart in a 100 mile radius confirmed it," she said scathingly.

"Jealousy looks ugly on you," he said cynically, enjoying her discomfort.

"So does banging coked up sluts!"

"At least I didn't marry them," he said, his anger carefully hidden beneath a smug smile.

"I didn't plan to get married!" She paused, containing her emotions and sliding them once more behind a mask of complacency. "It just happened. I was a mess and Cedric…he was there. He picked up the pieces. He needed a wife and I needed a purpose."

He tilted his brow, looking at her incredulously. "What the hell kind of marriage is that?"

"You couldn't possibly begin to understand. " Blair sighed, all fight gone. She had been dreading this moment for years. Empty and near drained she wanted the fighting to end. "What is wrong with us? When is it going to stop? Surely we have come further than this in eight years." Silence stretched between them, each lost in contemplation.

"I think part of us is still arrested in time back in 2009 and I'm still standing in that elevator holding that bouquet." His voice was resigned, accepting. Everything he did, all of his accomplishments, had been influenced by that one moment in time. He could deny it all he wanted, but that night for better or worse had changed things forever.

She reached out to touch his arm in an instinctive gesture of comfort. "I am sorry I left like I did. I honestly didn't think you cared."

"Blair−" Words that so easily came to his tongue were now lost. His eyes clung to hers, keenly observant to the slightest nuance. "So you're happy?"

"Of course I'm happy. Who wouldn't be?" She looked away swiftly, refusing to meet his eyes. Looking down she laced her fingers. Absently twisting and pulling at the large diamond its ornate gothic setting heavy on her slender finger. He closed the distance between them taking her hands in his, stilling her fingers.

"Don't lie to me. I can still tell when your eyes don't match your mouth." His voice, uncompromising in its need for truth was soft and tender. His hands skimmed her sides, his heated touch melting her skin through the thin silk of her dress. With each sensual caress, each lingering touch he became more passionate, more insistent.

"Fine. Maybe I'm not happy." The admission, dredged from someplace deep within her disturbed her. The truth of it now spoken aloud could never be erased. Capturing her gaze he reached up to cup her chin tenderly. His lips brushed her with a promise of a kiss.

"I could make you happy," he whispered tenderly.

Blair sucked her breath in harshly. Senses overwhelmed she gripped his shoulders hard. She was losing her hold on reality and she desperately needed something solid to focus on.

"Maybe for a night," she conceded. With that cryptic statement hanging in the air Chuck's mouth descended to cover hers in a bruising kiss. He thrust his tongue between her lips, exploring her mouth. A strangled moan escaped her and her arms slid around his neck forcing him closer. He pulled away only to drop adoring butterfly kisses across her cheek stopping at the shell of her ear.

"Then give me one night." He buried his head in her neck leaving her burning with fire. With a shuddering sigh Blair surrendered to temptation. Ignoring the voice that told her she was playing a dangerous game.

"Where?" She asked, beautiful in her defeat.

"Hôtel Le Bristol Paris, the Presidential suite."

The haze between them lifted. Colors shifting brightening reality interfered. Once more they heard the twinkling strings of orchestral music carried though the French doors. A glance filled with the misspent longing of eight years passed between them. Blair nodded, turning swiftly on her heel. Chuck watched as she glided back into the ballroom, back into a life that didn't include him.


	2. Chapter 2

The door slid open and he was there. Saying nothing, Chuck watched Blair, his dark eyes drawing her into an inescapable sensual black hole. Mesmerized she couldn't look away. Years may have passed, but with one look he still had the power to enthrall her, strip away all her defenses. Now that she was here she didn't know what to say, what to do.

It had all seemed so easy on the car ride over. She had contemplated stopping at her place to change into something more appropriate, but then realized she had no idea what type of outfit was considered suitable for this type of occasion. She had never dressed for adulterous mind blowing sex with an ex before. What did one wear for that? Something that said please take me now, but was classy? She didn't wanted to dress like all the other tarts he'd been with, but she wanted to be clear that sex was the agenda. Then again this was Chuck Bass, sex was always his bill of fare. Hot color flooded her face at the thought of how it easy it would have been for him to just take her there in the garden at the wedding party. A few minutes more and she wouldn't have had the strength to resist him any longer.

In the end she had decided to leave her dress as it was. She didn't want him to think that an evening with him warranted a change in outfit. After offering her compliments to the bride and groom she had instructed her chauffer to drive for an hour, giving herself time to change her mind, before dropping her of at Hôtel Le Bristol. To ensure she didn't change her mind she tipped back a few glasses of chilled champagne. Now here, standing in front of him, she was at a loss.

"Blair." The way her name fell from his lips was a heated caress that turned her insides to liquid fire. Legs weak and trembling she looked away from him, walking into the lion's den. Uncertain of the correct protocol she wandered the place, appraising her surroundings, focusing on the delicate French antiques that adorned the room.

"This is a long way from the décor of the Palace. Do you own this place? Is that a Louis XIV secretaire?" She asked nervously.

Light smoldered in his eyes. "I didn't invite you here to discuss interior decorating or business," he said, his lips quirking briefly in amusement.

He circled around her, watching, assessing. Under his scrutiny she stiffened, her insides burning hot and cold. He stopped abruptly behind her, slipping his hands around her waist. Burying his face in her hair he inhaled deeply before sliding the silken tresses to the side of her shoulder. Her breath hitched in her throat when he placed his lips at the curve of her ear. "Since you asked so nicely and I am feeling very generous tonight, yes."

"Yes?" Dazed she tried to remember the question as his hot breath whispered across her neck. His arm steady around her waist, she turned to face him. "Yes to which question?

He reached out to caress her cheek his thumb tracing the curve of her velvet cheek. Sliding his fingers under her chin he tipped her face upwards. Her eyes met his and she shivered drowning in need.

"All three." He ran his thumb across her bottom lip and her heart beat furiously, quick shaky breaths of air slipping from her lips. "Tell me this is what you want. I need you to admit you need this as much as I do." Her eyes fluttered shut for a fleeting moment, the dark lashes trembling like butterfly wings.

"I do," she sighed.

"Open your eyes, Blair. I need you to look at me when you say it. Tell me you need me." His voice was rough, demanding. She opened her eyes, widening them at his intensity, pulling slightly away from him. He slid his hand around her waist, coming to rest at the small of her back, spreading his fingers to draw her closer. Staring into his dark eyes she tried to decipher his intentions. What was supposed to be a night of casual sex, what she assumed was a one-night stand, was taking a turn she hadn't expected. She felt he was staking a claim to something she was unable to give. Heart aching, tears burning the corner of her eyes she did the only thing she could, expressing her heart's desire.

"I need you, Chuck."

Hungry for her mouth he swooped down capturing it. Ashes, smoldering from years of yearning, exploded into white hot flames as their lips met. She moaned into his mouth as his lips pulled and tugged at her bottom lip. Their tongues met, dueling, trying to possess. She pulled at his hair, tugging his head up. They parted for a moment, staring deeply into each other's eyes. Unsteady she leaned into him and in response he clutched her closer, holding her tight.

"One night, Chuck. That's all this is."

He ignored her. She could only gasp as his lips and teeth found that one spot on her neck that turned her into pure desire, making her want to crawl out of her skin with need. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin and he shuddered against her with passion. She clutched him tighter, whispering his name, a plea for more. His mouth answered hers, tongues twining and dancing in hot wet kisses. Heart throbbing, mind in a haze, she lost herself. Writhing against him, the silk of her gown teasing her heated skin, she existed only for the pleasure he could give.

Panting for air, Blair let out a whimper of protest as his lips left hers to travel down her neck.

She wanted more. She had spent years dreaming of his kisses, measuring them to all others, wanting them like fish crave water. He sucked the tender curve of her neck, flicking his tongue, only stopping only to whisper briefly in her ear. "We need to stop."

"Wait…What?" With those words Blair's world fell apart. Had it all been a game? Brittle walls, carefully erected years ago to protect her psyche cracked like eggshell. Old insecurities, once contained, rushed through the fissures. Once more she had let herself be used by Chuck.

He studied her exulting in her flushed face, kiss swollen lips and heaving chest.

"Why…"

Smirking, the devil twinkling in his eyes he teased her. "Because if we don't stop I'm going to take you here on the hard wood floors and you deserve so much more than that."

"Oh…" She exhaled sharply, hating the power his words had over her. With one sentence he healed the fractures in her walls, putting her back together. His fingers curled around her hand. His gaze pierced her heart, sending electrical impulses along every nerve ending. He placed a soft lingering kiss on the palm of her hand and then moved it down to lie against his heart. Sweeping her into his arms as if she was made of air, Chuck moved her into the bedroom. Winding her arms around his neck she traced kisses along his jaw line, burying her mouth in his neck. Delicately, like she was made of the finest French porcelain, he laid her to rest on the heavy satin peacock blue and silver coverlet draping the intricately carved mahogany bed. He kept and held her gaze with a silent promise of never ending pleasure.

Chuck's body throbbed in anticipation. Blair was all his and there was not an inch of her that he would leave unexplored. Long before he first touched her he had recognized the promise of what they could have together if given a chance. When fortune offered her to him that night in the limo he had promised himself that he would make it real. He though that dream lost, but fate or heaven had intervened; he wasn't sure which and he didn't much care. This time nothing would stand in his way of making her his. It didn't matter if they had one night or hundreds they were forever.

His fingers drifted across her body, tracing her curves, reading with his touch like the blind with braille. Her eyelids flickered, her body melting at the simple pleasure the soft sensations from his powerful hands wrought. Longing, yearning her hands crept up gliding along the hard contours of his chest. Her fingers tackled at the buttons of his silk shirt, releasing them one at time from their prison. His own body thrilling with desire, he shed his remaining clothes, crashing his mouth into hers. They tasted each other with their tongues, their bodies pressing together. Her hips rocked instinctively against his hardness, each movement torturing her with the promise of what she craved.

Chuck lips trailed a descent to the base of her throat, drawing the tender skin into his hot mouth. Her blood hammered in her head as soft kisses and his quivering tongue stimulated the smooth flesh. The heat from his body radiated through the thin material of her dress torturing her.

Wanting more his hands traveled down across her hips to massage her firm thighs before sweeping upward to crumple her skirt around her hips. His fingers teased the lace edges of her thong, his eyes never leaving hers. He slipped them off, sliding them over her thighs. He guided her legs apart, nestling his fingers inside her, stroking, teasing. Breathless, she clung to him, her fingers curling in his hair.

Chuck observed every reaction to his touch from her flushed skin and panting breaths to the shuttering of her eyes. In a blur of motion her dress glided up in a silky hiss from her thighs and was pushed over her head. Thinking was impossible. Nothing existed but this exquisite moment. More kisses, teasing fingers and harsh pants from overtaxed lungs. Together they teetered on the edge of bliss, falling again and again into exquisite oblivion.

* * *

Blair stretched languidly in contentment like a feline bathing in sunlight. "How many times was that?"

He chuckled in satisfied amusement, bestowing her with a rare and striking smile. "You lost count?"

Overwhelmed in a tide of passion she remembered only their cries, whispers and moans. With seductive arrogance his gaze appraised her, drinking her in. His egotistical pride in his bedroom skills, regardless that it was earned, irritated her. Annoyed she shot him a withering glance. "Stop looking at me like that!"

Still aching for her, Chuck swept her into the embrace of his arms, his legs pinning her to the bed, fingers biting into the flesh of her hips. Rubbing against her he drove her mad. Exhausted by hours spent in tender exploration all that was left was raw need. She sighed with pleasure as they fell back into a sensuous dance once more. When the world came into focus again, Chuck gathered her into his arms, holding her snugly. Blair, emotionally and physically spent, buried herself into the safety of his neck, surrendering to sleep.

Feelings evoked by their intimacy closed in on his heart. For the first time in years he felt blissfully happy, alive. Leaning in he tenderly kissed her forehead. His heart once closed off, barren, now blossomed bearing fruit. Having had a taste of what could be, he now knew he would never be satisfied without her. Whatever it took he would have her. His mind racing, he began to form plans within plans. A harsh twist of regret for the games he was about to play briefly pulled at his insides, but he sharply dismissed it. After all the ends would justify the means.

* * *

She awoke to a dream made real, the taste of Chuck in her mouth, his body pressed against her, the smell of sex heavy in the air. Rolling on her side, carefully untangling herself from the security of his arms she memorized every single detail of his face. She wanted to imprint his image in her consciousness a remembrance she could carry with her forever. In sleep Chuck's face softened, the cynical lines smoothed into the visage of peaceful slumber, a devil with the face of an angel. Reluctantly she suppressed the desire to tame the damage her fingers had made of his hair.

With calculated timing she slowly eased herself from the bed. She watched him to make sure the rustling covers did not disturb his slumber. Locating her dress she slipped it over her head. Grabbing her heels she tiptoed out of the bedroom, closing the French doors behind her. Seating herself in front of the antique secretaire she located the hotels complimentary monogrammed linen stationary. With a heavy heart she penned the epilogue to their relationship. Slipping into the elevator she left part of herself behind.

Outside the entrance of the hotel a shiny vintage gray Rolls Royce waited. The driver, catching site of his mistress stepped out of the car, purposely avoiding catching her eye. From years of employ he knew she would not want him to see the tears welling in her eyes. Blair exhaled slowly, valiantly trying to remove all traces of emotion before sinking into the buttery soft leather cushions next to the golden haired passenger who waiting for her.

"I can't do this again."

"I know." The pain and tenderness in his voice broke her. Tears streaming she gave into the comfort of his embrace. Burying her head in his fine wool suit coat she grieved for that which she had left and the prospect of her future.

"Forgive me, Blair." He stroked her hair, gentle and soothing.

"We won't talk of this again. It never happened." Her velvet voice hid a sharp edge never heard before.

He nodded, silently acquiescing to her demand. "As much as I love Paris I think it is time to go home. The manor house is so lovely this time of year. Perhaps now would be a good time to have the gardens redone, maybe do some redecorating. It's been a while since we entertained. Maybe a party? " Bending his head he placed a reverent kiss atop her tousled curls. "I do love you, Lady Errol."

She said nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Feet aching, weighted down with bounty from a day spent shopping, Serena stumbled into her penthouse apartment. Kicking off her shoes she stumbled into the main sitting room. A mess of modern, traditional and country chic styles it was obvious that no interior decorator had been involved with its design. Not expecting visitors it took a minute to register that someone was lounging in her priceless Bruno Mathsson chair**. **The one museum quality piece of furniture she owned.

"Chuck!" Startled Serena's shopping bags went flying. Luxurious purchases, wrapped in store logo imprinted tissue, scattered at her feet like offerings. Picking up items randomly, shoving them into various bags, she clumsily attempted to bring order to the brightly colored chaos. Stuffing the last remaining item back in its bag, she turned to him irritated. "How did you get in here?"

He smiled smugly, enjoying her discomfort. "Did Nate forget to tell you he gave me a key?"

She shot him a withering glare. "He did." She held out her hand impatiently. "I'll take that back now."

Twirling the key between his fingers he regarded her with amusement. "I'm afraid I can't do that." He placed his hand over his heart mockingly. "Nate entrusted me with a grave responsibility and I would be derelict in my duty as his best friend if I relinquished my role as warden of the emergency key." With a grand gesture he slipped the key into the breast pocket of his suit coat.

Sighing in annoyance she walked over to the small mini bar, grabbing a bottled water. "I'd offer you a drink, but you already helped yourself."

Holding his glass up, he inhaled the aroma, nostrils curling in distaste. "Remind me to bring my own scotch next time. I can't believe the swill you and Nate have. It looks like I need to spend some quality time with my boy again; he seems to have forgotten everything I've taught him."

"I'll be sure to tell him," she said wryly. Twisting the cap off her water she took a drink, studying Chuck covertly from out of the corner of her eye. To say she was surprised to see him was an understatement. While she saw him frequently at society functions, familial holiday dinners and when he picked up and dropped Nate off from their Bro- dates, she hadn't spent time alone with him in years. Whether by his choice or hers she was uncertain. It wasn't that they disliked each other or that they went out of their way to avoid being alone together, rather it was what was between them. The million pound elephant they pretended didn't exist. "If you're looking for Nate he's out of town until Friday."

Setting the offending glass down on the glass topped table with a thud, he turned to face her. "I know."

Puzzled she set her water down. "Then why−"

"I saw Blair." Eyes hooded, Chuck watched Serena intently. Observing, deciphering the widening of her eyes, the flutter of her pulse at her throat and the almost unnoticeable trembling of her hand. "Or to be more precise I fucked her. Several times, actually."

Her response was immediate, fierce. "Stay away from her."

"You'll have to do better than that." His lips spread in a sardonic smile.

Exhaling, she roughly massaged her forehead, attempting to put order to her racing thoughts. "Wait−what, I don't understand. When? Where did you see her?

"She didn't tell you?" His voice cynical, faked surprise.

Shaking her head, she moved shakily from behind the mini-bar.

"I ran into her last week at a wedding party in Paris. Suffice to say we ended up back at my hotel." He closed his eyes pretending to remember. "She was even better then I remembered, all−"

She interrupted him sharply. "I don't need the details." She swallowed and cleared her throat. "You had a one night stand with Blair. Congratulations. Why are you here?"

"Information."

She laughed hollowly. "Why come to me? You have your own private detectives. Go to them."

He leaned forward, finger clasped under his chin. "Because there are pieces missing and you're the only one who can give them to me."

"Chuck, I am begging you, leave her alone."

His eyes narrowed at her speculatively, her request ignored. Leaning back into the chair, he feigned boredom as he rattled off the facts he had acquired. "By every account, Lord and Lady Errol are the perfect couple, albeit a bit private. They donate to all the right charities and participate in the necessary societal and political events in London. They rarely leave the country and in the last few years they have become more reclusive than usual, entertaining less and spending more time at their country home. The press, their friends, everyone familiar with them makes a point of mentioning how devoted and over-protective her husband is; how she is never without him. It's almost considered a scandal that after so many years of being married they are never apart." He paused, his tone changing imperceptibly. "Yet the one time I run into her, she is in Paris and he is nowhere to be found. Stranger still, she has no compunctions about committing adultery. "

Serena shrugged her shoulders nervously. "What does it matter where you met or that he wasn't there? You obviously got what you wanted so why do you care that Blair cheated?"

Chuck looked at her sharply. "I don't believe in coincidences"

Feeling weak, she settled into her favorite armchair, overstuffed and printed with cabbage roses, a glaring contrast to the modern edges of the chair Chuck was seated in. Comfortable physically, she fortified herself for the ensuing mental battle of wits. "Aren't you being a bit paranoid?"

Chuck said nothing, instead choosing to study her like a specimen under a microscope. "I don't understand what you want me to say." Uncomfortable under his gaze, she gulped. "You haven't mentioned her name once since she left. Why do you care?" she asked.

"Tell me about her husband." It was a command, not a question.

Serena peered curiously at him through her lashes. "Cedric? There isn't much to tell, no dark secrets or mysterious past. He's kind and gentle and he adores Blair."

"How did she meet this paragon of virtue?" He asked with a hint of carefully orchestrated boredom.

"Through her dad, I think." She crinkled her nose in thought. "Harold was friends with Cedric's mother; she owned property next to his vineyard. Cedric was staying there when Blair went to live with her dad."

"So they meet, fall in love, and marry within a span of a few weeks." His face darkened in contempt, his voice filling with scorn. "Not even two months after she declared her undying love for me; typical behavior for Blair. There is a word for women like her."

Eyes blazing, her expression was thunderous. "Don't you dare judge her. You had your head so firmly stuck up your ass you couldn't even see what was right in front of you. She−" Slamming her lips together she captured the words, before they tumbled from her lips.

He leaned in, capturing her gaze, eyes boring into hers. "She what?" His tone was calm, yet sharp as a knife.

She shook herself free from his stare, focusing instead on her entwined fingers. "You have to let this go."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Stop it Chuck! There is no conspiracy; no mystery here. After her suspension Blair was a mess so she decided to go live with her dad for a bit. Jumping into marriage was a bit out of character for her, but the circumstances were extreme. She was in a dark place and she met someone who fell passionately in love with her the first time he saw her. " Serena hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "It was kind of rushed, but Cedric had been very sick. That's why he was staying in France; he was recovering from chemotherapy. Because of that he didn't to want to waste any time, he asked her to marry him almost immediately. For Blair it was like something out of a romantic movie and she desperately needed to be loved after what you and Nate put her through. You can't blame her for moving on, when you had nothing to offer."

He considered her words, inclining his head in acknowledgement. "That certainly explains his numerous medical visits over the years, but it doesn't explain hers."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. "You managed to get their health records?"

"Don't be ridiculous; of course not." He shrugged matter-of-factly. "Only the paid in full receipts from their accounting firm."

"Do you have any idea how sick this is?" She asked aghast.

His eyes darkened becoming flat and unreadable. "Not as sick as hiding the truth. I know you Serena. Even with your upbringing, you fail at the art of deception and manipulation. Your face is an open book. You haven't lied to me today, but you also haven't been honest. You're hiding something about Blair."

She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes boldly. "There is nothing I can tell you."

"Can't or won't?"

She drew a deep breath. "Go out tonight; get drunk….sleep with some models. Forget about what happened last week with Blair, put it in the past. She's happy and I won't have her hurt because you decide on a whim to mess around in her life."

"When was the last time you saw her?" He asked with deceptive calm.

"A few months ago. Why?

"She's not happy," he said flatly.

"Are you certain about that? You haven't known her in a long time," she retorted accusingly.

"I beg to differ. I recall knowing her, in the biblical sense, only a week ago." He smirked, enjoying Serena's embarrassment as her cheeks flushed with color.

"If you're so convinced you know her, why are you here? Why don't you go talk to her yourself?

He stretched his long legs nonchalantly. "I would, but she and her husband are currently staying at his country estate. No visitors allowed. The damn place is practically a feudal manor, surrounded by woods and gated, with only one way in and one way out. Somehow, I don't believe I am on the guest list."

"Well, then. Best to let it go," she said crisply.

He rose gracefully in one fluid motion. "I can't and I won't." A melancholy frown flitted across his features. "She didn't have to come to me that night, but she did and it changes everything." His expression hardened becoming vicious. "In the future, remember I gave you a chance to come clean. I will find out what you're hiding and you better pray it's insignificant. Because if it's not you will be responsible for the consequences." His lips twisted in a cruel smile. "Give my compliments to Nate when he returns."

Turning on his heel he strode from the room leaving turmoil and panic in his wake.

* * *

A/N: I forgot to thank my reviewers in the last chapter so here is a shout out for both chapters. Hugs and cookies for: SnowedUnderNJ, PlayerWantsPrince, Kay, Syrianora, Penny, :d, "D, uncorazonquebrado, flipped, Dystopic Entropy, Queenie, Felicia and rockchalk08, Casey, QueiraStrawberry9, OTHskater, Dwindlingcandle, hopelessromatic549, EnglandOCfan, AH17, ronXbouillabase and LiloaznDork. Without your reviews I never would have had the confidence to keep writing.

All comments, positive or negative are loved. Just let me know you are reading. :D

My writing could use some polish and since I often miss things while editing I would love to find a beta. If you have any experience with this and would like to receive my undying gratitude by helping me out please PM me.


	4. Chapter 4

Twisting the last curl into place, she pinned it securely with a diamond tipped hairpin. Her gown, a whisper of ivory chiffon, the hem delicately embroidered, cascaded around her. Seated at the antique gilt French dressing table in her Tiffany blue bedroom, she was a resplendent gem housed in a silken jewelry box of her own design. The mirror, silver and worn thin around the edges had serviced several generations of Errol wives. A crease furrowing her brow, she imagined them peering at her through space and time, shaking their heads in derision, pitying her failure to measure up to the family she had married into. Unsure whether to laugh or cry, she stuck her tongue out, mocking the dignified Blair reflected in the mirror.

A deep throaty chuckle lightened the atmosphere, Cedric making his presence known. "I hope that wasn't aimed at the dress. The poor thing can't help that it that its wearer eclipses it."

Bending beside her, their faces met in the looking glass. Blair couldn't help but notice the lovely picture they made, his pale blonde hair highlighting the gold tints in her dark curls, a perfect foil of each other, reminiscent of the illustrations found in the fairytales her father shared with her when she was a child.

"Considering it's vintage Givenchy, the dress wears me," she said wryly. Her eyes lingered over his features, noticing new lines in the corners of his blue gray eyes, golden complexion paler than normal, his skin pulled taut over the sharp ridge of his cheekbones. Confronted with the changes she had been denying for months, her heart constricted painfully.

"I was just downstairs. Everything looks perfect," he said affectionately, his mouth curving into a proud smile. Removing his hand from behind his back with a courtly gesture he presented her withthe red leather case he was hiding. Wide eyed with surprise and pleasure she pressed a hand to her lips.

"Ceddie, you shouldn't have."

"Does that mean you don't want it?" he teased, laughter filling his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous." A smile tugged at her lips. Meeting his eyes in the mirror her own flickered with amusement, her face radiating delight.

His finger nimbly unhooked the clasp on the box revealing a signature Harry Winston sapphire art deco style necklace with earrings. "You'll be pleased to note that this did not come from the family vault. I shopped for this one myself." He slid the necklace from its satin lining, gracefully placing it around her long slender neck.

"It's stunning," she said softly, moved by his gift. Her fingers drifted over the midnight stones imprisoned in delicate platinum. "As much as I love the family jewelry it's nice to own something that isn't drowning in Errol history."

"I'm sorry. I should have realized that years ago," he murmured, chastened. He secured the necklace, handing her the earrings.

"Don't be. It never bothered me until recently." Hooking one of the earrings in her ear she tilted her head to admire it.

"I don't think I have ever seen you look more beautiful." The words caught in his throat; overcome with emotion he placed a reverent kiss on her shoulder.

She stiffened, jaw tightening as a memory, presumed dead was revived by the simple act. Hand resting over her heart she remembered vividly a kiss, a necklace and a birthday party long ago. She was no longer that broken girl. She would not think of him, not tonight. Hand sliding to rest over her abdomen, she shut him out. Shoulders shaking she took a deep shuddering breath. Once more she closed the coffin on that particular remembrance, hopefully burying it so deep it would never resurface

"What's wrong?" He scanned her worriedly, his brow creased in concern. "Should I call the doctor?"

She turned sharply; placing a finger over his lips, she silenced him. "Everything is fine," she said, forcing a smile.

"We should cancel, reschedule for another weekend," he said anxiously.

"No. I have spent the last few weeks planning this party down to the last detail." Gently she reached out to cup his jaw tenderly. "Who knows when we will get a chance to do this again?"

"Blair…"

"Stop worrying. It's going to be a wonderful evening, one to remember. All of our closest friends are coming. "

"All 100 of them not including any dates they might choose to bring." he joked even as his worried gaze examined her closely, searching for clues that this was what she really wanted. It was second nature for Blair to repress her true feelings, to hide behind her idea of perfection. He had learnt over the years to be ever observant of her moods, always questioning. His heart ached at the thought that deciphering her was a skill he would not have a chance to master. "I hope you're not doing this for me. This isn't what I need."

She rose in a fluid motion, turning away to busy herself with straightening nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. "It's what I need," she murmured sadly under her breath.

Pretending he hadn't heard, he let the words disappear like drops in the ocean. Composing himself, he pretended to adjust his tie in the mirror. A jovial smile now planted on his face, he held out his arm, like a gentleman of old.

"Shouldn't keep our guests waiting. Shall we?"

Gratefully she placed the tips of her fingers over his bent arm, like she was taught years ago in cotillion classes. Taking a deep breath, she captured the precious moment, securing it in her heart.

Smile plastered on her face, Blair stood at the top of a curling staircase. Glancing anxiously at Cedric, she looked for signs he was tiring. She didn't want him strained, especially when she was quite capable of taking care of this herself. Satisfied with his demeanor and appearance she waited for the distinguished grandfather clock that sat in the entry way to announce the time. She calculated each upcoming hour, meticulously running a mental checklist. Moments ago, the clock struck eight thirty which left exactly twenty minutes until they needed to make their way to the dining room. Dinner at nine fifteen, six courses at fifteen minutes apiece, provided there were no catering errors; drinks and dancing from ten thirty onwards with additional dessert and aperitifs around midnight. Finished with that task she moved on, comparing the guests already greeted with the list of guests that sent acceptances.

Cedric glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Recognizing her mental machinations he smiled at her with amused affection. Caught, she returned his look with one of pleasure. Everything was coming together perfectly. The shared moment quickly ended as more guests ascended the stairs. Blair, in her element shared air kisses and complimented gowns, exchanging mundane chit chat. Last minute arrivals flooded through the entryway, the receiving line growing. Immersed in her role, she almost missed the striking of the clock. With feigned pleasure she greeted Gemma Woodridge, a vapid thrice divorced neighbor and necessary invite.

"I'm so thrilled you were able to attend. What a lovely dress, is it−" she halted, shock siphoning the blood from her face. Blank and shaken, she stared at the figure lazily emerging from behind Gemma. Sliding his arm around his date and smiling with sadistic pleasure at the loss of her poise was Chuck Bass. Suffocating, stomach clenched tight and panic welling in her throat she fought to retain her sense of control. Unwilling to face him but unable to turn away, she was trapped. From far away she registered Gemma's introductions. Barely managing a welcoming nod she watched in horror at the scene unfolding before her eyes.

Anticipating an introduction, Cedric held out his hand for a friendly handshake. "Any friend of Gemma's is welcome. Cedric, pleased to meet you."

Measuring eyes slid back and forth between his host and hostess. "Chuck, Chuck Bass," he announced. Smiling sardonically, he firmly grasped the proffered hand.

Surprised, Cedric looked to Blair, registering her distress. Hesitating, he waited for a cue from her. When he saw none were forthcoming, he made a choice.

"So you're Chuck. Blair has often mentioned you," he stammered.

"I'm sure she has," he said smirking, almost mocking, the polite words transformed into something dark andalmost twisted.

Cold trickling down his spine, Cedric looked at him blandly. "Will you be visiting England long?"

"Only as long as it takes," Chuck drawled. His gaze traveled to Blair, roaming lazily over her figure and blatantly undressing her with his eyes. Shock giving way to anger she thrust her chin up to meet his eyes head on.

Gemma **, **growing impatient and oblivious to the shark in their midst, grasped Chuck's arm, her long pink nails curling into his suit coat as she led him away. Her vulgar laughter filled the hallway as she began to regale him with her exploits.

Blair stared after him speechless. The message in his eyes was clear. This was war and he fully intended to win. The ancient Errol family timepiece finally struck nine, each bass gong hammering his words. _As long as it takes, as long as it takes_, deep into her skull over and over again.

If not for the tutelage of Eleanor Waldorf, Blair doubted she would have made it through dinner. On the surface she glittered, her beauty and witty repartee charming and winning over even the most difficult guests. On the inside she was a tangle of broken puzzle pieces that could no longer be forced into a nice tidy picture. The perfect host Cedric offered no clue of the torments he suffered as he watched Blair play at eating; noting that not a morsel from her six courses touched her lips. Merry and faking enthusiasm he conversed in great length over politics, the weather, horses-anything and everything to distract him from the man that only had eyes for his wife.

The agonizing dinner finally at an end, Cedric and Blair rose, his reassuringfingers curlingover hers. Together, a picture of grace and gentility they led the party to the ballroom. Not originally part of the manor house, the ballroom was added on shortly before the turn of the last century. Rarely used during Cedric's mother's lifetime, Blair kept the relic alive with yearly and up until recently biannual dances. Not born to this life, Blair had embraced it with whole-hearted enthusiasm, becoming more a lady of the manor in the traditional sense than his mother ever had. After their marriage she studied the Errol family trees with fevered dedication, devoting herself to learning the history of the house and its contents. Traditions lapsed for decades were brought back to life under her guidance. At one point she even suggesting he secure a chair in the House of Lords. If his health hadn't interfered he would gladly have done it to make her happy.

The orchestra struck up a traditional march at their entrance, segueing into a familiar waltz as more guests entered. Cedric smiled at her predictability. She always started the evening the same. Classical music to begin with then progressively more modern music as the evening wore on and the alcohol flowed faster. If he was correct, around midnight when the elderly started retiring for home, whichever London DJ was the flavor of the month would appear to mix the latest hot tracks. The familiar strains of The Blue Danube twinkled in the air. As expected, he swept her into his arms, leading her into the waltz.

Stiff shoulders aching with tension, Blair tried to relax in Cedric's arms. This was their song, the first one they danced to after they were married. The lone dancers on the parquet floor, all eyes were on them. This was supposed to be her triumphant moment, a beautiful culmination of a perfect night. Instead he was ruining it, destroying this small bit of pleasure she allowed herself. She couldn't see him but she knew he was watching, his eyes piercing her like a pin through the thorax of a butterfly. Refusing to give in she focused on Cedric, the anxiety etched in his worn face was a stab to her heart. He didn't deserve this. It was all her idea, her fault that he was here. She was the one who hadopened the door, letting the marauding lion in. In that moment she hated Chuck. She wanted to claw him to pieces, destroy him for the way he was ripping her apart. She was never more aware of how precious time was, each day slipping by faster and faster. She could feel every minute as they slid through her fingers like sand in an hourglass. There was so little left. This time was theirs and nobody **- **not even Chuck **- **was going to take this from them. Survival instincts engaged, she flashed her husband a grin of forced pleasure, eyes shining as she tried to communicate her love and loyalty to him.

Chuck, having rid himself of his date, watched the spectacle in front of him. Leaning against the bar he drowned his scotch, signaling the bartender for another. A muscle clenched along his jaw, the muted light of the room shading the harsh lines in his face. He hungrily drank Blair in. His mind never at rest, he consumed every detail, analyzing every look, every gesture. Each smile Blair bestowed on her husband was a punch in the gut. His hands clenched tighter with every step of their dance. He wanted to wrench her away from her foppish Lord and punish her for leaving him. Like a bystander at the scene of a horrific accident, he couldn't look away. He knew it wouldn't be easy, things with Blair never were. He just didn't expect this. There was no denying what had passed between them that night in Paris. Simultaneously there was no denying she cared very deeply for the man she danced with. There was something wrong, some unknown factor at play here. The deck was stacked against him and key cards were missing. He cursed inwardly at Serena. He knew she was hiding something. She might not know all of Blair's secrets but if anyone could have helped him fill in the blanks it was her.

Drinking and socializing, he shadowed her all evening, always a few steps behind. Her heightened color, the nervous tilt of her head and her secretly trembling hands gave him endless delight. He could still affect her, make her feel. If he was to suffer tonight so would she. He bided his time waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Shortly after midnighthe got his chance.

Air kisses, handshakes and compliments abounded as Blair bid adieu to sated guests making their way home. Catching Cedric's eye she tilted her head in the direction of the footman on duty; silently communicating her intent to check in with the staff. At his acknowledging nod, she scanned the room. Her stalker out of sight she crossed the room, ever watchful of his presence. Noticing the empty bar she breathed a sigh of relief. Taking a moment to relax, to still the panic eating away at her little by little, she tipped back the drink the bartender handed her. With more than half the guests sated and on their way home, the evening was finally coming to an end. Reluctantly she handed off her empty flute; her gracious hostess smile once more in place she turned to leave only to be prevented by the hand that snaked firmly around her waist. She didn't have to look to know who it was. His arm, a steel trap, held her firmly in place. Flushing hot with embarrassment, terrified of making a scene, she fought her desire to kick and scream.

Sliding his lips over her ear, the familiar rasp of his voice prickled her skin. "You owe me a dance." To her shame her body responded, her breath hitching in anticipation. Chuck smirked with pleasure at her reaction.

"I owe you nothing," she said, clenching her teeth.

"I beg to differ."

Using a trick not used since high school she lifted her Christian Louboutin shod foot slightly, angling the stiletto sharply. Outwitting her, Chuck shifted slightly and pulled her onto the dance floor. Thwarting a potential scandal, she smiled tightly, pretending enjoyment as he partnered her in a dance. She didn't doubt the universe was punishing her when thumping dance rhythms switched to the melancholy strings of Henry Mancini's Moon River.

"Why are you here?" she asked resignedly, acknowledging he'd won this round.

"You know Gemma. She needed a date," he quipped.

"Please." She rolled her eyes. "You're not here to charm Gemma into your bed. All you need for that is a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of cheap wine."

"Jealous?" He quirked his eyebrows at her playfully.

"Of course not. I have everything I ever wanted, right down to the castle and the prince," she said maliciously, taunting him. She gasped as he slammed her tighter to his chest, his fingertips cruelly digging into her waist.

"Does the Prince know his princess came to my hotel room begging to be fucked like a bitch in heat?" He sneered, staring down at her in cold fury.

"Take your hands off me," she said slowly, every word enunciated like the stabbing of a knife.

"Shall we give them something to talk about?" He challenged her angrily. Narrowing her eyes she glowered at him. "That's what I thought."

"What do you want?" she asked, furious.

"An explanation."

"I gave you one. I wrote you a note," she declared in a tense, clipped voice that forbade any questions.

His eyes narrowed in irritation. "Ah, yes. That doesn't count," he drawled, a bitter edge of cynicism in his voice.

"Why not?" she asked petulantly, pursing her lips and studiously avoiding his eyes.

"Because it was the most melodramatic pack of lies I've ever read. I think you covered every over the top cinematic cliché possible in that piece of crap."

Her mouth dropped open in protest. "Don't bother. You owe me more than that." She met his eyes in angry acknowledgment. "Dinner tomorrow at Le Bleu Heure."

"No," she said flatly. "There is nothing left for us to say. I made a mistake and all I want to do now is forget it ever happened and get you out of my life."

"I think I need to spend some time getting to know Gemma better, take her up on her invitation to stay for while. Since you're such good neighbors, we should plan some fun evenings together. Does Cedric like to play Parcheesi , billiards or cards? Perhaps we could all catch a movie" he mused, not bothering to veil the implications of his threat.

"She'll be sick of you in days. She never spends more than a week with anyone," she said frantically, her worried gaze examining the room for the tell tale signs that they were the subject of current gossip.

"Maybe, but I have other invitations. You have such lovely and accommodating friends." His eyes looked heavenward in mocking contemplation. "Rose Fullingham offered me a room in her house, Lavinia DuChamps wants to show me more than just the tourist destinations in London and Cedric's old friend from school Kate Buchannen asked me to come home with her tonight," he said, enjoying his ability to make her squirm.

"You wouldn't." Eyes flashing she pressed her lips together in anger.

"Try me. Think of all the fun I can have getting to know all of your friends and acquaintances, sharing the intimate details of Blair Waldorf's life," he threatened, the expression on his face hard and vicious.

Waving the white flag she surrendered. Frustrated at her defeat, she drew courage in the knowledge that even though this match was lost she would ultimately win. She had to. There was too much to lose. "What do you want?" she asked, resigned.

"Dinner, a few hours of your time −alone," he drawled, his voice thickening like honey.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not having sex with you."

"Is that all you think about?" His lips quirked into a teasing smile. "Dinner tomorrow, eight o'clock at L'Heure Bleue."

She shook her head dismissively. "I can't, not tomorrow. I have commitments. Besides I can't be seen dining in public with you. It will be all over London in minutes that I'm cheating on my husband."

His eyes hardened into black chips of ice, sinister and warning. Scared at what she saw hidden in their depths she froze no longer able to continue the pretense of dancing. "In that case, is that Gemma over there? I need to let her know I will be staying for awhile," he said, turning away. Frantic, she clutched at his sleeve.

"Wednesday. I can see you Wednesday. Cedric will be busy in London all day. I'll meet you anywhere that isn't public. We can talk. Work this out," she pleaded.

A slow smile spread across his lips, softening the harsh features. His fingers trailed briefly across the sensitive skin of her back, sliding towards the nape of her neck. Leaning in, he whispered, "1:00 on Wednesday, the Royal Suite at the Lanesborough Hotel." Abruptly he ended their dance, having got what he came for. With a look that was a threat or a promise-she knew not which, he left her alone at the edge of the dance floor.

A/N: All comments, positive or negative, are welcome. If nothing else just let me know you are reading and want me to continue. :D

I apologize for the roughness of this chapter. I wanted to post something since I have kept everyone waiting two weeks. I will replace it with a more edited version later.

Re-edited 3/27/09

Much love for my reviewers **Rowena**, **Lee Rion**, **-xXxBlonde ambitionxXx-**, **ggfan**, **Lauren1102**, **uncorazonquebrado**, **AH17**, **SnowedUnderNJ**, **Syrianora**, **.**, **bloom**, **pisaniel**, **ghfan84**, **Dystopic Entropy**, **flipped** and **hopelessromantic549**. Eternal gratitude goes to Felicia (**puresimplicity-xo**) and **Wendy** for their encouragement and beta work.


	5. Chapter 5

She stirred her tea slowly, drops of forbidden whole fat milk swirling, the color mellowing from dark to honey brown. The silver teaspoon clinked and scraped the delicate bone china five strokes clockwise and five counter. Back in New York, tea was something she and Serena as children used as an excuse to dress up in their mother's finest gowns and play hostess to dolls and stuffed toys. Here it was a national institution, something she adopted soon after marriage to complete the transformation from Blair Waldorf to Lady Errol. What was once an affectation was now a necessity. Laying the teaspoon carefully on the saucer, she frowned at the plate of food specially prepared for her. Stomach churning, she stared at the miniature egg white, mushroom and tomato omelet with golden toast points and her usual parfait of fruit and yogurt. Warned by the sound of Cedric's soft leather shoes shuffling against the aged hardwood floors, she hastily picked up her fork.

Sunlight filtered through the conservatory's clear and stained panes of glass, nourishing the hothouse plants and exotic blooms that filled the room. Stopping in the doorway he grinned in delight at the unexpected surprise of his wife joining him for the morning meal. Backlit with the early morning sun, emerging from nature's magnificent palette, she resembled one of the Madonna painting's he saw during his visit to Rome years ago. He gazed appreciatively at her, musing on her uncanny talent to consistently choose the perfect backdrop to showcase her loveliness, taking his breath away.

"This is a pleasant surprise," he said, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "I didn't expect to see you until this evening. " Sliding smoothly into the wicker backed chair he looked approvingly at the plate of food before her.

She leaned towards him across the table, eyes serious. "Yes, well…" she fumbled, the carefully rehearsed words catching in the throat. Taking a deep breath she changed direction. "Would you like me to pour some tea?" she offered sweetly.

He shook his head, leaning back into his chair, relaxing and soaking up the sun's healing rays. "Not yet. I'll wait until my eggs and kippers are here."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, gripping her fork tightly, the thought of the oily smoked fish making her sick. "That is one English culinary delight I will never understand."

"Lots of protein, my dear. Exactly what the doctor ordered," he said mischievously.

She looked at him cynically. "Don't use the poor doctor to justify your obsession with that hideous dish."

He chuckled, the lines around his eyes creasing in amusement. "How is the new menu working out?"

She looked down dourly at the pristine untouched plate of food before her. "Wonderfully," she said forcing enthusiasm into her tone. With careful deliberation she cut her omelet into perfectly proportioned small bites. With each bite forced down she focused on the nutritional benefits and not the fat and calories. Under Cedric's pointed surveillance she managed to consume half her meal before her stomach started to roll and lurch. A servant arriving with a tray of food gave her the distraction she needed. Laying her fork aside on the starched linen she took a sip of tea, relaxing as the heated liquid warmed her throat, soothing her stomach. She waited until his meal was laid out and the servant had departed before speaking. "I thought I would head up to London with you today."

About to cut into the juicy thick yolks of his eggs he looked up sharply. "Blair, I told you I don't want you there. It's enough you have to deal with the aftermath. I don't need you there to hold my hand."

"I know," she said soothingly. "I understand better than anyone your wish for privacy. I just thought you might enjoy some company."

"You don't have to do that. You've been so tired lately you should stay and rest."

"Are you saying you don't want my company?" She asked, a faint tremor in her voice, her lips trembling. Ashamed at her deceptions she blinked, hiding her eyes, the fringe of her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

"No. That's not it at all," he said miserably. Upset at his insensitivity he rose, rushing to assure her. He took her cold hand in his, rubbing the pad of his thumb along her wedding band. "I don't want to be any more of a burden to you then I already am." Head bowed, he sighed heavily. "I'm afraid you got the worse end of the bargain when you agreed to marry me."

She inhaled sharply, guilt gnawing at her. "You have never been a burden," she said with quiet firmness. Twining her fingers between his, she gazed into his eyes, shedding the superficial , she spoke to his soul "Don't ever think that. I'm the one who ended up with a treasure. You saw the real me: a scared, knocked up , Yale reject who ran away from home in shame and you married her anyway. I don't know anyone else who would do that." Swallowing hard she bit back the tears misting in her eyes. "I always knew the cancer might come back. I just thought we would have more time."

"Marrying you was the best decision I've ever made," he said thickly. Clearing his throat he regained his composure, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze before releasing them. With a deliberately casual movement he returned to his seat and began attacking his now cooled eggs. "The chemotherapy should take several hours." Taking a bite of the kipper and egg concoction he smiled in satisfaction. "What were you planning? I was going to have the driver wait at the clinic, but I can have him chauffeur you around instead."

She avoided his eyes, pushing her plate away. "That won't be necessary. I'm just going to do some shopping. It will be much easier to take a taxi. Just let me know when you're done," she said lightly, the graveness of the previous moment forced aside. Rising, she folded her napkin, tossing it on the table. "What time are we leaving?"

He looked up from his plate. "Ten thirty. My appointment is shortly before noon. "

She nodded, forcing nausea down asshe straightened her shoulders. "I'll be ready." With long purposeful strides she left him to ruminate on this sudden change of events.

* * *

Entering the Royal Suite at the Lanesborough Hotel at exactly one o'clock, Blair stood in awe of the stage that was set before her. The aroma of hundreds of purple and white hydrangeas wafted in the air, tantalizing her senses. While the sun was garish, glaring outside within the light was dim, accented with flickering candles. The hand carved regency furniture was graced with piles of satin pillows that perfectly complimented the carelessly tossed ones peeking out from the massive four poster bed. Mouth suddenly dry she swallowed as she eyed the gloriously draped monstrosity that looked like it came directly from a glamorous thirties Hollywood movie or the cover of a trashy bodice ripper romance. Halting the erotic images that began playing in her head she forced her gaze on the devil before her.

"What is this? Page 109 from the Chuck Bass Playbook on seduction?" She scoffed, her nervousness hidden behind mocking bravado.

He blinked slowly, his lips slowing curving in a smile of pleasure at her fluster. He understood better than anyone how necessary it was to conceal weakness within the thrust and parry of language.

"Page 132 actually," he murmured. Rising languorously from the settee he turned his back to her, filling two flutes with chilled champagne.

Annoyed at his lack of reaction, a small huff of air escaped her lips. "The pimped out borderline bordello setting might work on your usual taste deficient conquests−" she paused, sweeping the room frantically with her arms, "But…I'm not having sex with you," she exclaimed shrilly.

"Of course not," he said dryly, holding out a glass of champagne.

"It's barely one o'clock," she said, aghast even as her mouth became dry and parched contemplating the temptation held aloft.

He chuckled, the familiar sound reminding her of their scheming days back in the Upper East Side before Nate had thrown away her future in Serena's arms. "Since when did that ever stop you?"

She shook her head, her tantalizing curls teasing her bare neck and collarbone that rose sinfully from the low cut designer blouse. "You just want to get me drunk so you can have your way with me," she accused, shoving away the impulse to stare at that ridiculous bed.

"I don't have to get you drunk for that," he said, smirking slyly.

Memories of what happened only six weeks earlier came rushing back to taunt her. Cheeks hot, she couldn't help but remember how he had forced her to admit she wanted him. Reaching for the alcohol her fingers slid over his, embers still glowing from a fire that was never doused sparked to life. Gripping the glass, adrenaline and fear coursing through her, she deliberately calculated the number of steps she could put between them without broadcasting her unease. Amusement flared in Chuck's eyes . Enjoying her discomfort, Chuck grinned smugly.

Blair gazed longingly at the champagne. Refusing to take the risk, she set it with a clank on the nearest decorative table. "What do you want?" she asked haughtily, determined to gain the upper hand.

"Everything," he rasped, soft and deadly.

She pretended she didn't understand even as the blood pumped furiously through her veins and her pulse beat a wild rhythm in her ears. She would not give into this. She thought of Cedric, who laid his world at her feet, taking only what she could willingly give. She pictured him, his body being slowly poisoned at the very moment, innocent of her deceit.

"You have to be more specific," she said archly, hoping he would play along,drop this insanity.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" he drawled, his tone amused but steely with determination. He advanced towards her, sinuously shifting closer, defining seduction with every hard moving line in his body. She squeezed her eyes shut, frantically searching for a new tactic, a way to deflect this avenue of conversation that could not be allowed to continue. Not trusting herself, she retreated a few steps, bitterly acknowledging the slight upper hand his nearness gave him. In order to leave this room with her current life intact she would need to accept her weakness to his touch, his smell, his very presence and not let her pride get in the way.

"Do you have any idea how pathetic you are?" She narrowed her eyes, looking down her nose at him in contempt. "Do the gossips back in the Upper East Side know that Chuck Bass, playboy extraordinaire, now resorts to blackmail to get laid? Did all the girls back home finally get wise to your sleazy moves?" She asked, smiling with pitying condescension.

He regarded her in amusement, recognizing the desperation contained within her insults. She was faltering, her game descending to amateurish levels. She glared at him, her mouth tightening in frustration at his indifference to her machinations. Infuriated, she searched for a new tactic. Chuck made a valiant effort not to laugh at the picture she made, all spikes and bristles. After a while he gave up. A rare chuckle low and throaty erupted from his chest.

"Did you really think it would be that easy? A few insults and I would head back to America withmy tail between my legs?"

Wide-eyed a glimmer of uncertainty crossed her face, vanishing almost as soon as it appeared. If he blinked he would have missed it, but the evidence was there and Chuck was confident the end was in sight.

In distress she noted the sudden tensing of his muscles; with predatory grace he moved closer. With each step forward she stepped back, withdrawing until her back hit the wall. He effectively blocked her, his hands resting on either side of her. She pressed into the hard surface, trying to avoid all contact. Though he stood close enough he only needed to lean in to kiss her, he kept a few inches between them. Uncharacteristically patient he waited for her to capitulate, surrender. Her eyes fluttered, remembering his taste, the feel of his skin under her fingertips, the way his eyes devoured her like she was the answer to his prayers, his personal salvation. It had to stop; whatever was between them couldn't be acted on. She had responsibilities, debts she owed and she could not and would not risk losing everything she had worked so hard for. She feared the fire he ignited within her would incinerate her, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. She swallowed hard and bit back tears. "What will it take to make you stop? Make you go away?"

Triumphant at this turn of events he couldn't help the slight tinge of sadness that colored his smile at her suffering. Merciful, he didn't even bother to shade the truth. He just leaned in closer, narrowing the space between them to mere inches. Tiny tremors tingled along her arms and down her back as his breath stroked her cheek and ruffled the strands of hair framing her face.

"Nothing," he whispered softly in her ear.

He reached out to cup her face, his thumb caressing the curve of her cheekbone, forcing her to look only at him. His eyes smoldered with passion and promise.

"I won't ever stop. Not until you're in my bed, wearing my ring."

The words were ominous, a death knell to the future she had plotted and risked everything for. Her heart thumping wildly in her chest froze in fear. Cold swept over her, turning her skin to ice. She shivered, her breath caught in her throat. Comforting her in the only way he knew how, his mouth moved in to claim hers. With a jerk she slammed her eyes shut, bracing for a kiss that devoured. Instead he pressed his lips to hers lightly, reverently. His tongue delicately traced the outline of her lips, attempting to coax them apart, his kiss unexpectedly gentle and sweet brought tears to her eyes. Flooded with the desire to deepen the kiss, sink against him, lose herself to everything but the feel of his mouth she let down her guard and let him in.

With a sigh of defeat she kissed him back, their tongues crashing into each other, twining and angling. In that moment she gave herself to him, blood pounding in her brain, heart leaping and knees trembling. He pulled her roughly, almost violently to him, her breasts pushed against the hardness of his chest. His body imprisoned hers in a web of throbbing, mind numbing arousal, stilling all thoughts. His hands explored the soft lines of her back, her waist and her hips. He pushed aside the collar of her blouse, exploring the ridge of her collarbone, his finger moving over her heated skin. Shame swept over her as she realized she was enjoying , reveling in her loss of control. It wasn't until she felt him pluck at the tiny pearl buttons of her blouse that she realized the extent to which she was succumbing to him.

She froze, coming to her senses abruptly. Squirming in his embrace, her arms forced their way between. Palms pressed against the planes of his hard chest she could feel the thumping vibrations of his heart. Heart to heart with only her hands between them she could feel their chests beating in unison. Her fingers itched to clutch and tear at his shirt, remove the barriers between them, skin to skin, heart to heart. At war with herself, she made the only choice she could. Tensing her hands, she pushed him away. He resisted her futile efforts like a cat swatting a fly, pulling her even tighter to him, his kisses becoming forceful and demanding. In protest she attempted to pull her head away from his. He retaliated; his lips became more brutal, taking what he wanted without thought or consideration.

Hardening her heart she played the only card left. Feigning surrender she softened under the passionate onslaught. Pressing forward she met his kiss with equal fervor, mating her tongue to his. She knew this round was hers when with a shudder he yielded to her. Playfully she nibbled his lower lip, sucking it sensuously before she struck. Taking advantage she bit down while simultaneously kicking him hard in the shin. What the moves lacked in permanent damage they made up for in the element of surprise. Startled, he stumbled, releasing her, touching his lip gingerly. Using the opportunity created she scurried away from him. Though the distance was mere feet it might as well have been oceans.

"That will never happen. I will never be yours," she spat, her chest heaving. Color stained her cheeks and her perfectly coifed curls now haloed her face wildly. "Go home Chuck."

He drew a ragged breath, threading his fingers through his hair angrily. His eyes bore into her, baring his soul, ripping her to shreds. In his gaze, love, possession and lust were all intertwined. To him there was no difference and it terrified her.

"Marry me," he said huskily. Words that she once dreamed of hearing from him, the culmination of her fairytale and her happy ever after, were now perverted into something sinister.

She stared at him in disbelief, rolling her eyes. "Are you insane?" She held her ring finger aloft, the symbol a reminder to them both. "In case you've forgotten, I'm already taken."

He didn't spare a glance at her hand, dismissing her theatrics. His hypnotic eyes never left hers. "That means nothing. This isn't the dark ages, Blair. It no longer takes an act of parliament to get a divorce."

She lifted her chin defiantly. "I would never divorce Ceddie," she said coldly.

He gritted his teeth, enraged with jealousy. His biggest weakness, the one emotion he'd never mastered and the one that was irrevocably tied to her.

"What a fitting moniker for a remnant of a family that's inbred itself almost out of existence," he said spitefully.

"That's rich coming from someone who insists on being known by the only given name in the English language that rhymes with 'fuck' ," she taunted, smiling viciously

He shook his head benignly, as if dealing with a temperamental child. "What would dear Ceddie think if he heard such vulgarities spilling from the lips of his perfect wife? Would it expose your fraud, the virtuous uptight ideal of womanhood you've created for yourself? "

He peered at her quizzically, tapping his chin with his finger in exaggerated contemplation. One corner of his mouth twisted upward, mocking. "Or is that part of your bargain with him? What gets him off. Pristine and perfect on the exterior but behind closed doors he wants you to be nasty, dominate him like a little bitch. No wonder I only have to look at you to get you hot. "

Her smile vanished, wiped away in anger. "You have no idea what you're talking about. "

"I think I do. I can always tell when a woman has been well fucked. She struts with confidence, glows with contentment, a secret smile hovers on her lips." He eyed her up and down with appraising eyes. "Your husband isn't taken proper care of you," he drawled.

Her expression was thunderous. "That is none of your business," she said, her voice tense and clipped.

His harsh feature softened in pleasure, his attack successful. Finding the hidden vulnerability he hammered at it. "Maybe not, but it becomes mine when you force your way into my life, spreading your legs faster than Serena after a few shots of tequila."

She shot him a hateful look that would have left anyone who wasn't Chuck Bass running for cover. "I love Cedric," she declared heatedly, meeting his eyes. She raised her voice, her speech slowing, each word enunciated carefully like he was a half-wit. "I know it's hard for you to comprehend, but there is more to marriage then sex."

"Maybe for some, but not you Blair." His gaze roved over her body, bold and seductive. Shivers of desire ran through her, her response to him instant and primal. "I know the insatiable wanton hidden in your ice queen veneer. This is not the life for you," he said his velvet voice igniting a burning fever in her blood that only he could cure.

She swallowed hard and in his eyes she saw her demise. The loss of herself with each bruising kiss, every heated touch until she craved nothing but him. There must be something warped inside her, broken, that even now living her fairytale she still wanted him. "You know nothing about me or what I want," she said in a suffocated whisper.

Sensing how close she was to the edge he pushed her further, hoping she would fall. "Did Serena tell you I stopped into in to see her a few weeks ago?"

She inhaled sharply, dread clawing at her heart. "She mentioned it," she said cautiously, her face a blank canvas. In distraction her fingers systematically began smoothing the pleats in her skirt, rhythmically folding each sharp line one after another. Her behavior, a red flag, told him what he wanted to know. There was more to this then he ever imagined.

"She couldn't stop talking about you," he said slyly, baiting her.

"Really." Noting her descent into compulsive behavior she stilled her hands, shoving them forcefully to her sides.

"She was very worried about you and your health. Is there anything I need to know?" His voice was coated with insincerity, his worry hidden tightly within. He was grasping at straws, rattling her in hopes that she would slip a careless word, a look or a gesture, anything that he could use against her. Even with the information forced from Blair the picture was no clearer then it had been weeks before in New York. He knew Blair and he could read Serena like a woman with daddy issues and they were both hiding something from him, something that a fortune spent on private detectives couldn't uncover. If Blair was ever going to be his, this was the ammunition he needed.

"No. Serena clearly has too much time on her hands. I'll talk to her." she said curtly, ending all further conversation.

He'd struck a dead end, but it wasn't over. "I want you, Blair. I've always wanted you. There's never been anyone else. I know you feel the same even if you won't admit it. I made a mistake years ago and I'm done paying for it. We can have divorce papers drawn up in hours. Without a need for a financial settlement , since I have more than enough, you will be free to marry in weeks. You can have your old life in New York back, see Serena every day, whatever makes you happy. You can have the wedding you always fantasized about." He paused, gauging her reaction. There was nothing. She stood frozen, uncharacteristically silent.

He sighed, hardening his heart. "Or we can do this the hard way. I can chase you; take it all away piece by piece. Cedric, your reputation, everything until all you have left is me. I will find out what you're trying so desperately to hide. There will be no place to hide, no one you can go to and nothing will exist for you but me. Make it easy for both of us and stop pretending that what we have isn't forever. You know me Blair, I fight dirty and I always win." The air crackled around them with desire, hate and love. Melded together there was no telling where one began and the other ended.

"Go ahead do your worst. This is one game you will never win."

"Then it's war?" He asked his voice harsh, ruthless.

She nodded grimly. Head held high, shoulders squared she strode to the door.

Their lives reduced to a game of chess, he took the first move. "I can't wait to tell Cedric all about our night together in Paris. I promise not to spare any of the juicy details. With any luck it'll get him stiff enough he'll try to actually bed you."

She turned around, looking at him in scorn. "This isn't high school, Chuck. He always knew. Try again."

Sacrificing a pawn she won this round, leaving a bomb in her wake.

* * *

_a/n: Please comment and let me know what you like, didn't like or just that you are still reading. :D_

_Thanks are owed too SnowedUnderNJ, Nicoley117-LadyBlueMartini, Lauren1102, tvrox12, sam, chairalltheway, Lee Rion, Melena Gold, jennfa61484, Shanynde, uncorazonquebrado and Syrianora._

_Much love for Felicia and Wendy and their tireless editing skills. Any mistakes are all mine. _


	6. Chapter 6

Blair surveyed her surroundings, bestowing a proud smile on the beautifully orchestrated event unfolding before her. The Royal Opera Benefit was one of the premier social events of the year and as the current chairwoman it was one of her responsibilities. She had joined the prestigious board soon after her marriage, quickly moving up through the ranks to become the youngest chairwoman ever to oversee the Royal Opera Benefit. It was a huge undertaking, responsible for raising funds to cover everything from dance, music and theatre classes for the underprivileged to the historic preservation of costumes, musical scores and even the theatre itself. Not exactly a fan of the arts like Serena, she chose this charitable endeavor for more than just the social cachet it carried. Cedric's ancestors, along with those of many of the oldest noble families, were the original founders and patrons of the Royal Opera. Over the centuries, with so many aristocratic families dying out, the Errols were one of the only original families still active in the Royal Opera. Several generations of Errol wives had supported and served as board members and now it was her quest to surpass all of them in her dedication, be remembered as the one to herald in a golden age for the old theatre.

It was the least she could do in return for all that Cedric had given her. While he would never admit it, she knew, he had married beneath his station. While being a Waldorf granted her entry into the upper echelon of New York society, allowing her to rise to Queen status in the incestuous hothouse of the Upper East Side, it meant little here in England. From her first introduction to London society it was made obvious to her that her marriage was considered a misalliance. Even more mortifying was the knowledge that all of society was snidely gossiping on about how soon the marriage would fail and what settlement she could hope to procure. With the odds stacked against her, she made sure in those early years to give to all the right charities, attend all the important events carving a niche for herself that proved the American stereotypes her peers held about her were wrong. Immersing herself in the strict protocol and obligations of her new life she now embodied the ideal that the aristocracy aspired to and measured themselves against.

A queen among courtiers, she strolled through the scarlet draped atriumpausing to welcome old friends and newcomers, their status easily gauged by the length of her attention. In between pretentious air kisses she shared bits of gossip, banal inanities and gracefully accepted accolades. In this instance she knew the compliments and appreciation were well deserved, as everything looked perfect. Amidst the awe inspiring soaring columns of the room she had placed small exhibits of artifacts from the Opera's past ancient preserved and lavishly jeweled costumes along with set pieces and rare instruments created small tableaus to serve as conversation pieces and distinctive decoration.

Taking a sip of her sparkling juice she circled the edges of the room, making sure the bars were still stocked, the starched tuxedoed waiters were dutifully passing out champagne and dessert and everyone was comporting themselves correctly. While the entertainment for the evening was the opening performance of the season's first opera, it was the socializing during intermission and the charity auction that everyone enjoyed the most, but would never admit too. The auction was a new fundraising tactic that Blair had introduced a few years ago. What had started as a small and innovative way to contribute either by donating a luxury item or purchasing one had become a cornerstone of the event. The auction was a way for the wealthy to parade their noblesse oblige, to have their efforts recognized publicly, drawing positive attention to themselves. Of course it helped the cause that the names of the donor and winner were printed in the annual quarterly publication and they were carved in a bronze plaque that was hung in the public entryway for all to see. The money earned through ticket sales was now a fraction of that earned from the auction.

This year with Cedric ailing and unable to shop for a unique gift she had been left to choose their donation, a Cartier emerald teardrop necklace. It was stunning in its simplicity, the large teardrop stone suspended from a delicate string of diamonds. She knew that it wouldn't take much urging for the women in the audience to cajole their dates and spouses into purchasing it for them. Having tried it on last week, the green fire resplendent against her golden ivory skin, the stone falling slightly above her cleavage, it had taken all her will power to give it away. The drone of the crowd softened to a lull as the auctioneer cleared his throat, the highlight of the evening beginning.

One by one, fabulous and exotic items were auctioned off at exorbitant prices, the alcohol having loosened more than a few wallets and purses. Finally, the Cartier necklace gifted by Lord and Lady Errol was announced and paraded around for viewing, the estimate of 40,000 pounds easily met. The main event almost over and her stressful duties almost concluded she sank tiredly into one of the ornamental chairs divested artfully through the room. The cracks in her composure were beginning to show as she blinked slowly, the room blurring. She took a large drink of her sparkling juice attempting to stave of exhaustion for at least another hour.

"150,000 pounds for the necklace and dinner with the Errols. The voice rang out clear and confident.

The gasps and excited roaring of the crowd rose and swelled in her ears like the breaking waves of the ocean, the rushing hum drowning all thought. Numb she rose from her seat as the crowd, like a pack of bloodhounds scenting scandal in the air, searched the room for her presence.

"Sir, this is highly irregular. Bond Street Auctions has never received and cannot condone a stipulation like this." He frowned, his beady eyes glaring at the interloper who dared to create chaos under his watch.

"A bid of this nature must be approved by the Chair". The auctioneer's voice boomed out through the microphone, shock and disapproval evident in his tone.

"Lady Errol, if you could please come to the podium and tell us how to proceed?"

Her mouth stretched into a wide aching smile as she made her way to the front of the room ignoring the wide eyes, gleeful smiles and tittering cast in her direction. Complexion white as wedding lace she pointedly avoided looking at the bidder as she accepting the help of the auctioneer to ascend the platform.

The auctioneer leaned in, covering the microphone with his hand and whispered in her ear. "Pardon the interruption Lady Errol, but what should I do? These brash Americans…I'm afraid they have no class or clue as to how things are done here."

She couldn't think, her thoughts were stuck like cold crystallized honey refusing to flow and function. Nodding she pretended coherence, buying herself time until she was able to come to a decision. She found herself wondering if the auctioneer realized that as an American, a British citizen only by marriage, he had just insulted her as well.

"Would you like me to put the bounder in his place?" He asked, looking at her conspiringly. "Or If your ladyship and Lord Errol could stomach the possibility of furthering this man's acquaintance he is offering triple what the necklace is worth. More than the auction could hope to take in even without his bid. I have no idea what the bidder's motivations are, but Bond Street Auctionssupports your decision whatever the choice."

She knew, she understood exactly what Chuck was doing. He had played the whole situation like a maestro. If she turned down his offer, she was denying The Royal Opera a fortune, something completely at odds with her exalted position. If she accepted they would be forced to endure his company, something she vowed should never be allowed to happen again, further indulging his delusions that she could be seduced and won. As for the talk this little stunt would cause she was damned either way. Cornered she did the only thing she could; give in.

"I accept. Lord Errol and I would be honored to entertain the gentleman in return for such a generous donation," she said graciously and calmly even as she seethed inside. She knew that the only weapon against a possible scandal was indifference. If it was perceived that this turn of events meant nothing to her then it would mean nothing.

"150,000 pounds for the Cartier emerald necklace and dinner with Lord and Lady Errol going once…"

Blair didn't bother to pray for another bidder. She knew she was trapped and there would be no heavenly sent savior, no one who would willingly bid triple what the necklace was worth.

"Going twice…sold to the American…" He paused to look at the slip of paper one of his assistants rushed into his hand. "Mr. Chuck Bass!"

Giving a small wave to acknowledge the whooping and clapping of the crowd, she descended proudly from the stage. She brutally smothered her true feelings, enacting her own form of revenge. She knew any display of suffering or emotion on her part would only serve as some perverted form of foreplay to him so instead she chose to deprive him of any emotion other than calm disinterest.

Spots of color bled through the pale skin of her cheekbones as she made her way to the back of the room. Weak, she leaned against the cold marbled Grecian column, trying to slow the manic beating of her heart, preparing herself. It didn't take long for him to make it to her side.

He held the black leather case out to her, his eyes glinting in amusement. "Payment for the promised dinner," he smirked.

"That's your grand move, public blackmail? I'm disappointed, Chuck," she retorted.

He shrugged elegantly, "I had to do something to get your attention." A small smile played in the corners of his mouth. "You've been hiding," he said chidingly, danger lurking in his tone.

"And you've been stalking," she hissed, ignoring the jewel he proffered. Forever tainted by its association with him she would rather die than wear it now.

He gave up, pocketing the case. "I'll have it couriered to your home tomorrow. When I finally win this foolish war I'll have you wear this...and only this." He tilted his head, his gaze lazily skimming her figure, stripping her with his eyes, his intent clear.

"Stop that!" She commanded, practically stomping her foot.

Standing apart from the crowd they circled each other like wild animals, measuring, evaluating and searching for weaknesses as they prepared for battle. Aware that they were starting to attract attention, Blair smiled prettily, even as she raked him with her eyes.

"I have not been hiding. If you had done your research correctly you would know that I frequently reside at the Errol Estate with my husband," she said, with huge emphasis on the last word. Furthering the pretence that they were nothing more than new acquaintances she waved and nodded with an air of purposeful nonchalance at the various greetingsand acknowledgements directed her way.

"Somehow I don't think it's your affinity for country air and the simple rustic life that's keeping you out of London. You're hiding Blair, cowering in the safety of the country. "

"If that's true then why am I here tonight?" She taunted.

"As the chairwoman of this event there is nothing, not even the threat of running into me, which would keep you away tonight, especially since you had no reason to expect I would be here," he said dryly.

His eyes swept over the room, surveying the exquisite spread, historical exhibits and tasteful set-up. "I definitely see your hand in this. The Royal Opera Company should be congratulated for recognizing your expertise. "

She looked at him mystified, the unexpected words of kindness throwing her off balance. "Thank you," she answered stiffly without thinking, an involuntary reflex from her mother's rigid training in etiquette.

"I think congratulations are also in order for your ingenious plot to have my visa revoked. I always knew you were a malicious bitch, but I clearly underestimated your skills," he said, his mouth twisting into a hateful smile.

"I was rather impressed myself. Did you enjoy your visit with British Intelligence?" She asked tartly, taking a sip of her drink.

"Immensely. It is amazing how isolation within a small white room can give you clarity. I was able to dwell, obsess entirely about my next move and our future and I came to some conclusions," he said, a blade of steel slicing the silk of his voice.

She stiffened, ice water beginning to run through her veins. She distracted herself by smoothing an errant curl behind her ear. "Really? I'm assuming you're going to enlighten me regardless of whether or not I care," she said dismissively.

"Out of curiosity, how did you manage to convince M16 that I was the mastermind behind the largest international prostitution ring in existence? Not that I'm not flattered to be suspected, but I expect I wasn't even considered a possibility until you unsheathed your claws."

He closed in on her, angling his body along her side, his chest inches from her shoulder. Leaning lazily against the column he studied her regal profile: the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the nervous fluttering of her pulse nestled in the elegant curve of her neck.

"It wasn't difficult at all. Your playboy lifestyle, your monopoly of the hospitality industry and the harem of females always surrounding you made you a perfect candidate for the high-class pimp they're looking for. With your highly suspicious modus operandi I felt it was my duty as a loyal and devoted citizen to voice my concerns with the prime minister," she said with sickening sweetness.

"Did you share with them how delightfully you whored yourself to me in Paris? Because then I can understand how they might have misunderstood the evidence."

With calculated precision, his hand slipped between the cold marble wall and her slight figure. Delicately, his fingers trailed up the back of her dress, flirting with the silky ribbons that corseted thestrapless dress. Starved for the touch of her skin, he took his time, understanding the heightened pleasure of anticipation. His hand - painstaking slow – glided higher, his fingertips tracing the contours of her skin that rose above her gown. He smiled in triumph, all of the unpleasantness of the last week forgotten when she shivered in pleasure at his touch.

Blair stared fixedly at the scene before her, deliberately ignoring him in the hope he would grow bored of her passivity and find a new way to torture her. Their scandalous interlude went unnoticed as England's elite hurried to make drunken assignations of their own and finish their cocktails before the intermission ended.

"Blair, you should know by now that any plot I can buy my way out of will backfire. Thanks to you, I'm opening an office here in London and will be investing quite heavily in the British market for the next few years. Do you have any idea how much it is going to cost me to clean up the mess you created?" He asked fondly.

"Not nearly enough," she said through gritted teeth. He had taken her perfect plan, manipulated it and turned it to his advantage. She wanted to cause a scene, scream, kick him where it counted and storm away. Instead she stood perfectly still, unwilling to make any movement that would draw scrutiny to them as he traced exquisite patterns between her shoulder blades, branding her with feather light gentleness. She hated him even as she quivered, her body awakening under his touch, betraying her.

"What next, Blair? I think we can both agree that I'm the winner this round. "

He curled his finger around one of the long ringlets that fell artfully from her chignon. Smoothing the dark satin between thumb and forefinger, he tugged lightly. "How much longer are we going to continue this dance?"

She lifted her head, trying to pull away from him but he held fast. "Perhaps you should return to New York and find a partner you're more suited for."

"I want you. You're the only one I've ever found worthy of a second dance."

"My dance card is filled," she snapped.

"Where is Cedric? I thought he would be here tonight for you to parade around. According to the gossip you used to be inseparable. Is it possible he no longer cares to be seen with you since you've been tarnished, used by someone else?"

"Stop applying your demented logic to my life. It is unfortunate you have no idea what goes on in a loving marriage, not having had the advantage to experience one yourself.

"Please illuminate it for me than," he said coldly, the vein in his forehead beginning to twitch dangerously. "I'm dying to know why your loving and adoring husband can't be bothered to escort you to the event of the season, one that you are responsible for. I don't have to tell you how this loving marriage must appear to your peers. Lady Errol alone at the opera without her golden haired knight. Where is Gossip Girl when you need her? "

"Not that it is any of your business, but Cedric is feeling unwell."

"Is that his excuse? I didn't realize you were still that naive. I thought you would have learned from Nate that illness is one of the varied excuses a gentleman uses when they don't want to hurt your delicate feelings by telling you the truth: That they would rather pull their teeth out than spend another tedious moment in your company at a social event," he said condescendingly.

"If I tell you I'm feeling ill will you get the hint?" She asked darkly, draining her glass.

Chuck glowered, his hand falling from the paradise of Blair's velvet skin at the interruption of a hulking, freckled and shockingly red haired man.

"There you are Blair. I was wondering where you'd gotten too. Sorry I missed the brouhaha, but I stepped out for a smoke."

"Chuck this is Ian Craven, my date for the evening. Ian this is Chuck Bass, an old acquaintance from back home," Blair introduced, smiling with relief.

"Sorry for the wait. Had a bugger of a time getting the sparkling juice you wanted. Not much of an escort, am I?" Ian asked, handing Blair a glass and taking her empty one. "Where are the penguins when you need one?" Looking around he flagged a waiter down before holding his hand out to Chuck in greeting.

Chuck shook his hand firmly, his coldly assessing eyes moving from Ian to Blair. "You didn't mention your husband was amenable to your dating."

"He's not," she said sharply.

Ian chuckled, handing Blair's empty glass to the hovering waiter. "You must not know Cedric very well. I wouldn't call myself a date, more like a big brother. I don't think he would trust me near her otherwise." He winked broadly at Blair. "Basically I'm just here to keep Blair amused, ensuring she has a good time while keeping her husband from worrying too much. He's getting to be as bad as an old mother hen lately, always worrying and fretting."

Blair laughed as expected, but her eyes did not quite match the humor she exhibited. "Ian and Cedric have been friends since childhood. Ian served as best man at our wedding and has become a very dear friend."

"If we weren't such good friends I would have stolen her away from him that night. Might have married you myself," he sighed dramatically. "Now I'm stuck playing the role of loyal friend, forever measuring every potential wife to Blair and finding them sadly lacking." He shook his head sadly.

"Maybe if you dated someone with half a brain you wouldn't have this problem," she said wryly.

"True, but then I might have to marry her, forever ruining that special relationship we share."

She rolled her eyes. "Somehow I think I would manage."

"But I wouldn't. Who would tell me what color fuchsia red is, what the latest style trends are, what party to go to and most importantly what and who I'm supposed to like?" He asked, grinning widely as he turned to Chuck. "Was she this opinionated when you knew her in high school? I remember when I first met her I couldn't believe she was marrying Cedric. He was always so quiet and introspective and she was some exotic pampered kitten all claws and spitting contradictions. She was such a bitty thing too, you could hardly tell she was−"

"Really, Ian," she hastily interrupted, shooting him a warning glance. "Do you have to say every thought that enters your head? Besides it is not a question of being opinionated, but more a desire to help those that are severely lacking in taste and judgment. Consider it another of my charitable contributions to the world at large," she said haughtily, even as she regarded him fondly.

"What did I say…o-pin-ion-ated," he mouthed the word, exaggerating each syllable.

"There was a reason they called her Queen B," Chuck replied shortly, at a loss. This was a side to Blair he had not seen, nor expected. He knew it was ridiculous on his part, but he still saw her as the Blair he knew years ago. He was jealous that this was a side of her he didn't know and others got to see. He wanted her all to himself. He hated Ian for bringing out the playful, sarcastic Blair and he hated Cedric for arousing Blair's protective and tender instincts. Most of all, he hated Blair for refusing him, dooming them to this never ending cycle of pain, obsession and lust.

Their conversation was halted by a series of lilting musical tones that signaled the end of the intermission.

Blair gave Chuck a small smile, delight at her sudden reprieve evident in her eyes. "We should probably head back to our box. It was… nice to see you again." Her voice lingered over the word nice, making it abundantly clear it was anything but. "Will you be returning home then?"

"Not until I've gotten what I came for." His face was icily impassive, his eyes impenetrable as granite. For an instant she glimpsed the fury that underlay his calm demeanor, the cobra lifting its hood.

She lifted her head challengingly. "I'm afraid you will be returning home empty handed."

Chuck's fingers twitched. He longed to grab her, plunge his fingers in her hair and force her to kiss him until all that existed for her was he. He wanted to destroy her restraint and with it the civilized, deadly peacefulness of her gilded prison.

Ian gaped at them with wide eyes. Never accused of being a clever man, he knew that hidden within the cryptic conversation lurked something dangerous and destructive, something that Blair and Cedric in all their years of friendship had never hinted at.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Nice to meet you Chuck. We really should take our seats, Blair. Don't want to miss Faust's and Valentin's duel, the only thing that makes the fourth act bearable." He grasped Blair's arm, pulling her in the direction of the stairs that led to the box seats. She turned to give Chuck one last indecipherable look before allowing herself to be led once more into a world where he did not exist.

* * *

The sound of the door clicking open startled her, wrenching her from Marguerite's aria. "Crisis averted, Ian? I don't know what was so important it couldn't wait until after the show," she whispered harshly, her eyes never leaving the stage.

There was no answer as the intruder entered, the darkness cloaking him like a thief in the night. It wasn't until he was ensconced in the velvet and gilt chair beside her that she noticed her mistake. Catching the unmistakable profile from the corner of her eye her mouth went dry, her breath catching in her throat. She looked up at him nervously, aware that while they were one of hundreds in the audience, they were isolated within the privacy of the theater box. Her eyes swayed wildly from him to the stage, searching for any sign that they were being observed. Her long slender fingers gripped the fragile arm of the chair as she attempted to rise from her seat. In a flash his arm shot out, catching her hand in a painful grip, forcing her back into her chair.

"Don't get too comfortable. Ian will be back any minute," she said angrily, keeping her voice low.

"Not for the next hour. Ian is taking a well deserved break from acting as your shield," Chuck said mockingly.

"What did you do? If you hurt him−"

"Don't worry. The manager will soon have his credit problem sorted out."

He seated himself in the seat beside her, slinging his fingers through hers, cradling her small graceful hand in his. The simple act of holding her hand thrilled him in a way he never dreamed possible. This small intimacy between lovers, one he spent a lifetime scorning, made his heart ache with longing. Her rigid fingers grew soft and pliable in his hold as he caressed her thumb with his.

"Why do you fight so hard, Blair? Even when you know in that hard little heart of yours that we belong together." His voice was low, seductive.

She turned her head to his, looking into the abyss, the opera house fading away. For a second nothing existed but him, his amber eyes tearing into her, stripping away all pretension. Caught in his web, she trembled, her chest rising and falling jaggedly. Tears like fractured diamonds glistened in her eyes, threatening her controlled reality.

"Maybe once, years ago, before your dad died. Whatever we had, our time, passed long ago. I'm not the same Blair you remember. I've made choices, done things. Whatever is left between us is toxic, destructive and will only end badly. Why can't you see that? " She pleaded, brokenly.

"I can only see you. Marry me, Blair. "

A sickly wave first cold than hot surged through her. She inched away from him, pulling her hand from his.

"Six years after I made my vows to Cedric you can finally see me. " Her voice faltered, the biting sarcasm sticking in her throat. "Felicitations on your sudden maturity and personal growth, but it is too late. I don't think I can be blunter, but maybe it would help you if I spoke slower. I do not love you. I love my husband and I will never leave him. "

He inhaled sharply, all traces of his previous tenderness fleeing his face. "King takes queen," he said hoarsely, simmering with barely checked passion.

He studied her with calculating eyes before reaching out to thread his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head with his hand. Trapping her in place he leaned in gently, his breath dancing along the tender skin of her shoulder. With exquisite patience his lips climbed across her collarbone to hover over the sensitive arch of her neck. Blair gasped, quivering in fearful anticipation as she waited for him to strike. A master of control, he waited, his lips only a whisper away from her pulse. It beat wildly with every second he resisted touching her, kissing her. Her ears began to ring, her breath reduced to gasps as he tortured her with his nearness. She arched her back, a broken doll, almost crying out as his lips rasped across her skin, his hand sliding up the skirt of her gown. He curled his hand around her thigh, his thumb resting on the lace edge of her stocking. He stroked lightly, knowing exactly what his touch was doing to her as she tried to remember how to breathe.

"Please…"

"Please what, Blair?"

She couldn't answer, she could hardly hold still. There was no part of her that didn't throb and surge with fire.

"Are you worried about all your precious society friends? Afraid they might see the tarnish on your crown? The real Blair?"

His tongue delicately stroked across her pulse as his fingers played with the satin edge at her thigh, sliding under. She moaned, her desire at war with her objections and scruples.

"I promise they can't see. If I can't get through to you using words, then maybe this is the only language you can understand. Let me prove my love," he murmured, his breath fanning her as his words shivered across her skin. With his mouth and his touch he promised a new life, a new world.

He nipped, his teeth scraping against her sensitive skin as she trembled with need. Finally he stole between her legs. Each touch, every stroke, was slow and deliberate. Chuck watched her intently, waiting for just the right moment before sliding two fingers deep inside her. For a frozen moment, her heart stuttered in her chest, torn between pounding its way through her ribcage and stopping altogether. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Losing all touch with reality, her blood racing madly, she fell like Lucifer from heaven.

She heard someone whispering "please, please" over and over in the darkened box. Appalled, she realized it was her voice that begged and implored Chuck to continue . She arched, sensations ripping through her with an almost audible sizzle. It seemed to free some part of her that that had been stretched too tight for too long, like an elastic band pulled beyond its limits. She could feel blood surging through her, pulsing hotly. The sheer rightness of it caught her breath, hummed through her brain telling her that she belonged here, right here, only here.

She'd lived without for so long - the night in Paris her only aberration - she'd become used to it, almost forgotten how satisfaction felt until the heat of his touch reminded her. It was a deep hollow ache like hunger that had gone beyond starvation, no longer a pang but long gnawing nothingness. She'd known similar hunger before for food and the inevitable purging that followed. This was something similar, a hunger she couldn't control even with purging.

He slowly withdrew his hand from between her thighs, licking the taste of her from his fingers.

"Your move Blair."

She stared at him, unable to speak. Head swimming and wits scattered, she felt the sting of tears as she watched him leave. Turning to face the stage, tears beginning to course down her cheeks, she watched in horror as Valentin killed by Faust damned Marguerite to hell.

* * *

_a/n: Feedback, positive or negative, is always desired or just comment and let me know you are still reading. Thanks. :D_

_I want to thank all of my reviewers: **Roswell Dream Girl**, **nightsatthecircus**, **hopelessromantic549**, **Lauren1102**, **uncorazonquebrado**, **Summer124**, **Syrianora**, **SnowedUnderNJ**, **samuraigurl123**, **bellakatalina**, **Alize**, **Crystal**, **tvrox12**, **nostalgiakills**, **PlayerWantsPrince**, **JD**, **Arazadia**,** Melena Gold**, **laurienlaurie**, **jennavox**, **dk-fatale**, **Madeleinex**, Lucy, **bibleboymary4ever **and **:D**. **Your feedback means the world to me**. Thanks also go to Wendy for her inspiring thoughts and comments. I owe several of you reviews. I apologize for the lateness and I will be catching up on my reading this weekend so anticipate some feedback. :D  
_

_This chapter is dedicated to Felicia in honor of her birthday. Without her friendship and tireless beta skills this story would be a sad mess._


	7. Chapter 7

"Good Afternoon, Jameson," Blair greeted politely, handing her coat to Lady Rochester's ancient manservant. He looked to be on death's doorstep, stooped and gaunt, with white tufts of hair that burst from his soft, pink skull. He was surprisingly unchanged from the first time he had ushered her into this house years ago.

Grunting a pained reply, Jameson ambled with the speed of a tortoise down the long corridor to the drawing room where afternoon tea was always laid. Normally she engaged in pleasantries with the servants, thanks to the influence of her dearest Dorota, but she learned the hard way on her first visit five years ago, that the poor man was completely hard of hearing. She still squirmed with embarrassment when she recalled the conversation she had assumed they were having about the eccentricities of Britain's titled class before she was interrupted by Lady Rochester's laughter.

Blair would have given up all her Prada handbags not to be here today. It wasn't that she disliked her hostess, Lady Rochester, or Emily as she preferred to be called by her friends. The truth was she could hardly say no. Emily was the only person who, when she was introduced into London society, hadn't treated her like some weird disease Cedric had picked up on his sojourn in France. She had been truly kind to Blair, seeking her out at parties and gently educating her over several proper tea dates on how to avoid the social gaffes that befell most foreigners. Emily's generosity was partly due to her own experiences as a fish out of water. For a poor young American war bride who married into the aristocracy, society had been a perilous minefield that consistently blew up on her. Now, since her husband's death years ago, she had become a bit of an institution, a matriarch, all her earlier social trespasses forgiven.

This was the first time Blair had heard from her friend in almost a year and since the painstakingly written invitation to tea read like a command, she had given in. She believed that she owed her friend as much, and that is why she ignored the nausea that had all but driven her to take residence in the bathroom the last few days. With Cedric feverish from the chemotherapy and her stomach constantly in revolt from any food, including water, she had every reason in the world to stay home.

She tapped her foot, frowning in frustration, as she waited impatiently for her presence to be announced by Jameson. She wanted nothing more than to rush through her tea and return to the comfort of her home. Finally the octogenarian stepped aside allowing her to squeeze past him and enter. Emily excitedly rose to meet her, dumping the pug dog that was seated in her lap unceremoniously to the floor. The animal clearly understanding who was responsible for the loss of it's warm plush lap, glared balefully at Blair before turning and ducking under the draped tea table. Instead of the usual air kisses Emily gave Blair a short, yet genuine hug, wrapping her shaking, scarily thin and lavender chiffon draped arms around her.

"Blair, I'm so pleased you could come. It's been so long since I've seen you, my health being what it is lately. I do apologize for the abrupt nature of my note, but I thought it was imperative that we speak," she said, her head quavering. Her tightly coiled iron colored curls never moving from their hairpins.

"It's lovely to see you," Blair replied sweetly, seating herself on a worn satin regency chair. The drawing room always immaculately kept was now tinted gray with floating dust and smelled faintly of mold and wet dog. Lady Rochester's age was finally catching up to her. Not wishing to ruin what may be one of their few remaining tea times left, she painfully swallowed the lump in her throat, blinking away the tears that pricked her eyes.

"Tea? If I remember right you take it plain." Emily stated, not bothering to wait for an answer as she poured some into a delicate rose patterned teacup.

"That's fine. Thank You." Reaching out, she steadied the wavering bone china teacup held out to her, ignoring the liquid that spilled over the top unto the saucer. She looked away as Emily shuddered her way back to the couch, the older woman's body jerking and trembling with each movement. It took all her control not to leap up and assist her old friend, but she knew it was the last thing she would want. Since she never once hinted or alluded to her illness over the last year, choosing instead to hide out in her townhouse, Blair was not about to draw attention to it. Blowing on her tea she focused on the waves of steam drifting over the scalloped edge of her dainty cup, studiously pretending not to see what was in front of her eyes.

Lady Rochester, with her condition, didn't bother to attempt to drink her tea. She peered at Blair through parchment like wrinkled folds. Her hawk like yet fond eyes missed nothing as she retreated to her seat.

"You're just as lovely as the day Cedric married you. Regardless of what everyone said, I knew it was a good match the moment I laid eyes on you. You were just what he needed. Something other then himself to focus and take care of."

"We've been very happy together," Blair said primly, attempting to sip at the tea.

"Anyone can see that. It was a good thing his mother died when she did. She really did the poor boy a disservice. He was always sickly, but that was no reason for her to keep him locked up in that house with only his books and plants for company. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to him."

Blair looked at her friend in astonishment. This was not the conversation she expected to come of her invitation to tea. Lady Rochester, while never the highest stickler when it came to propriety, had never shared any thoughts about Cedric, his mother, or Blair's marriage with Blair before.

"He's been good for me too," she said softly. Tears once more teased her eyes, her stomach slowly rising to her throat as it revolted against the plain tea.

"You've been good for each other then. I hear he's not doing well? Is the cancer back?"

"Yes," she sighed, the sound as soft as the fluttering of angel's wings.

"He's won't outlive his mother then. It caught up with her in her forties." She looked at her with pity. "I'm so sorry Blair."

Blair nodded, looking down at the floor. She focused on the colorful complicated patterns woven in the oriental carpet, keeping the tears at bay.

"I know you never talk about it, but have you and Cedric ever thought about trying to get pregnant again? It's never easy to lose a child, I should know, but that doesn't mean you should give up. Have you talked to a doctor? It might not be too late."

"It's something we're considering," she said cautiously, her expression bland.

"That's good. It would be tragic after centuries for the Errol title to become extinct."

"Don't worry. I would never let that happen," Blair said grimly, her mouth slipping into a controlled smile.

"Good. Good," Emily said, her head bobbing up and down. "I can't tell you how that puts my mind at ease. I didn't think you were one of these modern women that are against having children, but after so many years passing without a child you can't blame me for worrying. I really don't want to leave this world without knowing you and Cedric are happy and that you will be taken care off. You're not meant to be alone and - forgive me - but when Cedric goes a child will help keep you busy, ease the pain."

"I'll be fine. Cedric's treatment is going wonderfully and you'll be back to yourself in no time. Give it time and we will all be dining together like we used too." Blair said perkily, even as tendrils of encroaching grief breached her confident tone.

"Of course," she murmured, looking at Blair with pity. Her body growing weaker daily, her muscles failing her, Lady Rochester was looking forward to death. The only thing she regretted was knowing she wouldn't be there for Blair when the time came. She had grown close to the girl, living vicariously through her triumphs. Guiding her through the shark-infested waters of British society had proved most entertaining in her twilight years. She rested easy in the knowledge that, with her scheming, Blair would not have to spend her widowhood alone like she had.

The long drawn out noise of shuffling feet heralded the slow yet steady arrival of Jameson.

"Ah, yes. Our visitor must be here. I hope you will forgive me, but I've done something quite inappropriate," she giggled girlishly. "I've meddled where I probably shouldn't, but I knew Misty Bass and her son is really quite convincing and charming."

"Excuse me?" Blair choked out.

"Chuck Bass, came to see me last week. I wouldn't have bothered, but I remembered meeting his mother when she was on her honeymoon trip. He begged for a chance to see you, say goodbye before he left."

Blair stared at her mutely. Was there anyplace, anybody that was safe from him? Who knew where he would pop up next? She would have to start making Bass checks everywhere she went. Just like the bed and closet checks she did for monsters as a child.

"Oh dear, I can see that I've upset you. Don't worry. He's told me everything and he won't be interfering in your marriage any longer. He's seen the error of his ways and now he just wants a chance to see you one last time before he leaves for America," she confided.

"Chuck Bass never leaves! He's like split ends, always there even when you can't see them, wrecking havoc in your beautiful, perfect hair," Blair said through gritted teeth.

"Really, Blair the poor man is only asking for a few minutes of your time to say goodbye. The least you can do is give him the closure he needs to move on," the woman reprimanded, casting Blair one of her signature disapproving looks.

Blair looked at her in horror. The old woman not only was in poor health, she was clearly senile.

She braced herself as knuckles rapped a greeting on the thin wood paneled door. Jameson stepped aside as Chuck entered the room.

"Mr. Bass," he intoned drearily, before painfully heading back down the corridor.

"Lady Rochester," Chuck graciously bowed a greeting in the direction of his hostess. His eyes exultantly met Blair's, corrupting his near perfect imitation of gentlemanly behavior.

"Lady Errol," he smirked, his voice a challenge wrapped in a sensual caress.

Blair glared at him, lifting her chin defiantly, waves of images from their last meeting crashing feverishly into her and sweeping her away. She swallowed against the rising bile in her throat as she replayed the sound of her voice pleading for him to give her release like a broken record over and over again.

"Mr. Bass, I've just been discussing your travel plans and intentions with Blair. Now, I've had a full tea laid out for you both in the conservatory. You can have a nice little conversation, clear the air so to speak, so that you can both move on." Emily glanced at the watch pinned to the front of her dress. "You have one hour to say your goodbyes before I send Jameson in," she admonished, wagging her finger in Chuck's direction. "No wandering fingers and roaming hands Mr. Bass. I expect the outmost conduct from you. Don't make me regret this favor. "

Chuck held out his hand to Blair, the devil twinkling in his eyes. "Don't worry Ma'm. I promise to behave."

A small hysterical laugh burst from Blair's lips as she rose from her seat, deliberately ignoring his courtly gesture.

"She must not realize that for you proper conduct can mean anything from drug use to secret sex societies." She replied vehemently, leading him from the room.

"It was lovely to see you, Blair. Give my love to Cedric," Lady Rochester trilled, as she lay back against the settee and pulled a cashmere throw over her legs in preparation for a mid afternoon nap.

Entering the small conservatory Blair was instantly taken aback by the oppressive heat beating sunnily through the widows and the wafting aromas from the tiny cucumber sandwiches and fruit tarts. Her breath hissed through her lips raggedly as she held her stomach muscles taunt to keep from gagging. She stopped in front of the small marble topped table, her back to him, ignoring the artistic spread of finger food.

"You're not really leaving are you?" She asked dryly, even though she already knew the answer.

"What do you think, Blair?" His hands glided up her back and into her hair, combing through her curls. Lifting the mahogany silk to one side, he drew close and placed a kiss of warmth, sweetness and inevitability in the crook of her neck.

"So much for behaving," she said sharply, hands trembling as she sought solace in the familiar ritual of straining tea leaves through steaming hot water. She had a feeling there would be no tea and civility between them today.

"Trust me, this is behaving. If I had my way I would lift your skirt and spread your legs right here on this table before you could shut me out again."

She turned, facing him, gripping his hands painfully in hers. "This war between us, it's over. Do your worst for I'm done. There is nothing you can do, nothing you can threaten that will convince me to leave Cedric."

Chuck was silent for a long moment, his fingers curling over hers. "Even if you don't love him the way you should?" He pulled her closer, moving slowly, giving her time to protest and move away. When she didn't one hand encircled her waist, the other gently stroked her long thin fingers soothingly.

"I owe him everything," she told him unsteadily.

"What do you feel?" He exhaled softly and she felt it on her lips, suffocating and heavy, tempting her.

"It doesn't matter. The last things I can trust are my feelings."

"You can trust me"

"Can I?" She entreated quietly, the delicate veil of ice enshrouding her heart and soul gently cracking and beginning to thaw.

She searched his face. It was beautiful, flames danced in his dark eyes and as usual they told her nothing. For a second the memory of what it felt like to be in his arms, kissed like she was the most precious of all treasures, was so vivid she could taste his lips on hers. It was so easy to imagine loving Chuck, but even easier to remember the destruction it caused.

He took her face in his hands, his eyes shining with love and tenderness, years of cynicism and dissipation falling away. Her hand slid up the hard planes of his chest of it's own volition, coming to rest over his heart. Under her palm she could feel his heart speed up and her own breaking. Her other hand clung to him, his fine chambray shirt wrinkling in her fingers. When he finally kissed her it was with gentle strength, pure sweetness and without a hint of dominance. His thumb stroked her cheek; his tongue teasing her's warm and worshipping. Bittersweet tears rained down her face, as the last of the ice caging her finally melted.

His lips became everything his words had not been: carnal and dangerous, sure in their approach. She felt drugged, trapped in liquid fire. She started to twist away from him, but he wouldn't let her go. His large hand held her trapped against his muscled thighs. Despite herself, she fell once more under his spell, her tongue meeting his and her breath catching.

She didn't want this again, the loss of control, those pleading noises and most of all the betrayal of her husband. She jerked away from him, knowing they couldn't continue. The sudden movement was the last straw for her fragile stomach. Pitching forward she fell on her knees in front of one of the large potted plants, emptying her stomach. In the throes of gagging she felt his hands soothing, steady circling her back and shoulders easing the tension. She didn't want him to see her like this, she wanted to tell him to leave, but she could only relax under his comforting touch. When she was finished, her throat free of the rusty burning acid, he handed her his linen, monogrammed handkerchief.

"Is this because of me? Did I cause that?" He asked hoarsely, his eyes haunted. "I never even considered that you might still be sick."

She wanted to blame it all on him, tell him it was his entire fault, because in a way it was. Yet she couldn't because for the first time she wanted no more lies between them. She was exhausted, tired of running and she knew there would be no more hiding from the truth soon. He wasn't ever giving up.

"No, it's not the bulimia. I'm pregnant."

His face was cold, chiseled like the marble of a gravestone and his eyes were chips of flint.

"Congratulations are in order then for Cedric. I never would have guessed he had it in him."

Her legs on the verge of collapsing she sat down. She blinked slowly, taking deep calming breaths. For a brief moment she was torn, her conscience never much of a problem before, was making its presence known. She was at the crossroads of the greatest decision in her life. It would be so easy to lie, make it all go away and free them all with her deceit.

"It's yours."

He stared at her agog, shaking his head. "No, it's not possible. You said you were on the pill."

"I lied."

He looked at her wildly, his features frozen in shock as he fell into the seat next to her.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry. I never thought-" she halted, her voice breaking. "I never thought it would mean more to you than a one night stand."

"How could you possibly believe that? What we had…what we still have was never about fucking," he said with bitterness.

"How was I supposed to know that?" She argued, desperate. "I gave myself to you over and over again and you treated me worse than the whores you banged on Bart's desk."

"So we're back to this, " he ranted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I was a mess. I needed time. Forgive me for not declaring my love to you at my father's funeral. If you had just waited I would have come around and given you everything. I even would have married you in that stupid fairy-tale wedding you always wanted!"

"I needed you then Chuck. I couldn't wait! You destroyed me and then watched oblivious while my bones were picked bare."

Chuck laid his head wearily in his hands, this unexpected turn of events making his head spin. Within seconds his decision was made.

"This doesn't change anything. We'll need to get married faster then I originally planned. We don't want the Bass heir born out of wedlock. With me as a father the kid will be called a bastard often enough, he won't need people being able to use the insult legitimately. You probably won't get that big white wedding you wanted, not that you were fooling anybody with that anyway," he muttered sarcastically.

"No," she stated simply.

"What do you mean 'no'? You just told me you're pregnant with my child. That means you need to get divorced now so that we can get married and get to work making future Bass' ASAP." He said mockingly, unsuccessful at masking the wistful yearning in his voice.

"This baby, it can't ever be yours."

"What the hell Blair? What do you mean it can't be mine?" He asked, misunderstanding. "We fucked, quite magnificently, may I add, without any protection. Behold; it's two months later and you're puking your brains out. Somehow I don't think Cedric figures into this much at all. Especially since, according to you, he knew about our little indiscretion.

She shook her head, fingertips massaging her aching temples, searching for the right words.

"Biologically it's your child, but in every other way it's Cedric's."

"No, Blair. There is nothing about our child that has anything to do with him," Chuck said coldly.

"That's where you're wrong. I never would have gone to see you that night in Paris without Cedric's urging. There would be no pregnancy, no child."

He looked at her dumfounded. He couldn't contemplate, couldn't even imagine how any man, especially one so devoted to Blair, could pimp his wife out to an old boyfriend. "Does he hurt you Blair? I swear if he has ever done this before he will wish he was dead.

"God, no," she said tartly, all but rolling her eyes. "There isn't a malicious bone in Cedric's body. He isn't like us Chuck."

Chucks features, drawn tight, relaxed with relief like a taunt rubber band that's been sliced. "Well, then he won't mind divorcing you."

"That will never happen. He loves this child and me. More than his life."

"Well, he's going to have to let you go. This isn't some wacky movie or TV show, Two Men a Lady and a Baby. I'm not sharing you and I'm certainly not sharing our child," he threatened.

"'I'm not something you get to have just because you got me pregnant. This baby isn't a pawn you can use to get what you want. Being an unwitting sperm donor does not grant you automatic parenting rights." She halted, looking at him with sadness. "If I hadn't come to you that night you would still be living your life as if I was a bad memory. The only reason you want to marry me and have this child so much is because you always want what you can't have. If I had pursued you, fallen easily back into your arms, you would have been bored within days."

"No, that isn't true," he said harshly, shaking his head.

"Do you really believe that? Do the right thing for this baby and me and walk away."

Chuck looked at her incredulous, shaken. "I can't."

She gathered her courage and spreading it around her like a cloak she played one of her last remaining cards.

"Cedric is dying," she said with simple directness. The sentence spoken aloud for the first time, finally acknowledged, released something buried deep inside her.

"We're all dying," he said cruelly, regretting it the moment the words tumbled from his lips.

She looked at him, stifling a sob, her eyes dilated into murky black pools. Finally accepting the truth that Cedric was dying, her thoughts thickened like hot molasses left to cool. The floodgates opened, her tears falling fast and furious, stinging her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Blair."

It wasn't a lie because in a way he was sorry. He was sorry to see her in such pain. Her suffering was always harder to bear, more so then his own. Maybe that was why he stayed away from her all those years ago when she needed him. He was in such a dark place then that being there for her, witnessing her pain, would have brought him to the brink; one he might never have returned from. He had done what was best for both of them and left her. She didn't understand, but he was protecting her from the darkness that surrounded him until he was ready to return and be the man she needed. In sickening irony he later realized it was his love for her, his desire to protect her that caused her to leave him and marry another man.

He sat next to her, his thigh pressing against her as he took her cold hand in his, trying to soothe her. For once she welcomed the intrusion, grasping at the comfort he offered as her weeping turned to heart wrenching snobs. Chuck, his heart breaking at her misery, took a calculated risk and gathered her in his arms. She nestled into his neck, cocooning herself in his warmth, her tears drenching the collar of his shirt. She only cried harder when he stroked her back, his hand massaging and smoothing the muscles in her back as he whispered nonsensical endearments in her ear. Anything to comfort her, get his Blair back. He couldn't have her continue like this, it wasn't good for her or the baby. Blair needed him and he had learned his lesson. No longer would he run from her pain and suffering like he did after his father died. She was going to need him now, their baby was going to need him and he was not going anywhere.

He waited for her shoulders to stop shaking and the ragged sobs to subside to quiet breaths, before he asked the one question that plagued him.

"Why did you come to me that night in Paris?"

She pulled from his embrace, inching away from him. With careful deliberation she swept away her tears with the sides of her palms.

"We tried everything to get pregnant. We spent a fortune on infertility treatments, went to every clinic in Europe, tried every radical procedure, but Cedric's cancer rendered him practically infertile. When we found out it was back it became even more imperative that we have a child. Cedric is the last remaining Errol and without a child, an heir, the line dies with him. The title would have become extinct and I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let five hundred years of the Errol Earldom die because I couldn't get pregnant. I looked into adoption, but Cedric refused to consider it. He didn't care so much about his blood being carried on, but he was adamant that the child be mine." Her voice quieted, growing softer with every word. "I thought about using a donor, but I couldn't imagine being pregnant and carrying a child whose father I didn't love."

He would have doubted he ever heard those last words if he hadn't been looking right at her when they escaped her lips. If he had looked away from her for even a second he would have missed them.

"So I was nothing more then a pawn in your game," he said hoarsely. He was furious, but he realized there was too much at stake now, Blair needed him to be calm.

Once more he reached out for her, taking her hand in his and not allowing her to shrink away.

"This baby is Cedric's only chance for a family and his legacy. "

"How conveniently you both seem to forget that I'm the father," Chuck said frustrated.

"Give us a year, eighteen months at the most, to be a family.. It won't be long. Let Cedric have his dying wish. Then I promise you can have whatever relationship you want with your child. I won't stand in your way," she pleaded, fresh tears brimming in her red-rimmed eyes.

"What you're asking of me is impossible. I can't just step aside and pretend this baby is his. It's ours, Blair. We're having a baby," he said with awe. "I empathize with Cedric's plight, but I can't allow you to take what is mine and give it to him. I'm willing to let him be a part of our lives and the baby's as long as he agrees to a speedy divorce." He reached out and tenderly caught an escaping tear with the pad of this thumb.

She shoved his hand away. "No! You don't get a say in this. This is my decision."

Under normal circumstances he would be raging, attacking all her weaknesses to get her to submit to his will. This time he knew he could afford to be generous. He was going to take another direction, choose a different avenue to get what he wanted. It was only a matter of time before she realized the ludicrousness of having another man raise their child, especially a dying one. Granted he felt bad for the man, but in a way he considered it a blessing. This gave legitimacy to his pursuit of Blair. Nobody could condemn him for wanting to marry the mother of his child, even if it meant breaking up a marriage to do so.

He understood Blair felt something for her husband, but with his sickness and their failure at getting pregnant, the marriage couldn't have ever been easy or particularly happy. She was going to need him with her pregnancy and her husband dying and he was going to give her the support that she needed. He would be there picking up all the pieces while dropping subtle hints in her ear, seducing her to his way of thinking. He could wait. Even if she didn't marry him today all that mattered was that they be married before the baby was born.

"Blair-"

Hysterical she cracked like brittle glass. "No! You owe me and you certainly owe him!

"What are you talking about?" He asked, puzzled.

"Think of this as a replacement for the one I lost, the one that he was going to raise for you." She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Her secret sorrow and shame tumbled out of her, free at last.

He paled, shaking his head slowly. "No. It isn't possible. We never-"

"You don't even remember do you?" she laughed, the sound heart wrenching and bitter. "The night of my mother's wedding, after your father's funeral. You came to me and fell asleep in my arms. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was waking up to you thrusting between my legs. When I woke again all there was left of you was a note."

"I thought it was a dream," he said in a daze.

"It wasn't. At least it wasn't for me when five weeks later I was puking my guts out. This time when I took the test it was positive."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"How could I? You came back from Bangkok high on opium and acting like a sex addict. You ignored me. Acted like you hated me. How was I supposed to tell you that you were about to become a teen pregnancy statistic?"

"You should have told me I would-"

"You would have what?" She interrupted, disdainfully. "Confessed you were in love with a high-class prostitute and then offered to drive me to an abortion clinic? Or maybe you would have decided to play at being a dad. Snorting lines of coke in between changing diapers."

"So you left, ran away!"

"I gave my child, our child, a chance for a life free from scandal. A life without an addict for a father."

He could finally see all the pieces, the last one sliding into place like an ornate lacquer Chinese puzzle box. "You went to stay at you father's villa and there you met Cedric?"

"Yes. I don't know how and I will never understand it, but he saw me, the real me, and he loved me anyway.

"It didn't bother him you were pregnant with my child?" He asked with disbelief.

"No, because he loved me and more then anything he loved the fact that he was going to be a father. He offered me the moon and I accepted; marriage on my terms and he would claim the baby as his. All I had to do was be with him, let him love me."

"What happened?" He asked, his voice cracking in despair. He already knew how the story would end.

"The pregnancy was difficult. I'm not sure if it was the stress, the eating disorder or just morning sickness but I couldn't stop throwing up. I lost weight and was hospitalized and hooked to an IV, but nothing worked. The baby stopped thriving and one day it was gone," she said stoically, without emotion. She had learned over the years when speaking of this time, to pretend like it happened outside of herself. Treating it clinically, as something that was separate was the only way she could bear the never-ending grief.

"I'm so sorry Blair. If I had known, I swear, I would have done things differently. The hurtful things I said, the whores, drugs it was all because I loved you. I couldn't bear to drag you into the fuck up that was my life, so I did the only I could to protect you. I made sure you would want nothing to do with me. You need to know that I would give anything to go back in time, be there for you," he pleaded brokenly.

"If that's true then give Cedric his dying wish," she begged. "Give us back the child we lost. Let Cedric spend the last of his days knowing he has an heir, a living descendent. "

"It's not that simple."

"It can be," she coaxed.

"No, Blair." He looked at her with sympathy. "I love you, this is our baby and I won't ever leave you again," he promised.

She cried out in frustration, blindly rushing past him as she ran out of the conservatory. He let her go. A lifetime's worth of caution winning the battle over his deep possessiveness. Too much blood had been shed here today and they both needed time. He needed to regroup, think of a plan. He knew he could win. He just needed to reset the board, get his game pieces in all the right positions so that he could put in move the play that would win it all.

* * *

_A/N: Please let me know what you think. I'm a little insecure about how it all came together. Any thoughts, positive or negative, are welcome. Please just let me know you're reading.  
_

_Thanks and love to: **puresimplicity-xo**, **SnowedUnderNJ**, **poochbello**, **Syrianora**, **RavenKeeble**, **Nicoley117-Lady Blue Martini**, **nostagiakills**, **flipped**, **Courtney**, **Venetia Carianna**, **Arazadia**, **samuraigirl1213**, **GGLover-1**, **hyacinth**, **:D**, **uncorazonquebrado**, **laurienlaurie**, **teddy bear** and **vintage fashionista**.  
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_Thank you so much, your reviews wrote this chapter._

_Eternal servitude goes to uncorazonquebrado for her tireless beat work._

_I could really use a back-up beta. Please PM me if you're interested. :D_


	8. Chapter 8

Cedric rested comfortably, legs stretched out on the chaise lounge and his favorite book, a tattered copy of Tom Sawyer, in hand. The cracked leather chair, like the book, were cherished relics of his childhood and the place he always retreated to when he was sick. He had spent a good portion of his childhood nestled in its down filled cushions, dreaming wistfully of the boyhood adventures he could only read about, all the things his sickly body wouldn't allow him to participate in. He rafted the Mississippi with Huck Finn, explored King Solomon's mines with Allan Quatermain, learned the art of courtly love in Malory's 'Le Morte d'Arthur', duelled at Percy Blakeney's side in The Scarlet Pimpernel and traversed the jungle with Kipling's Mowgli. With his books and his lone friendship with his neighbor Ian it was a lonely existence until he met Blair, forever changing his life.

He slowly blinked away Tom Sawyer's rendezvous in the graveyard the second Blair rushed like a tempest into the room.

"Did you have a nice time with Emily?" His gaze swept over her appearance, searching for subtle clues. The tense set of her jaw, the blossom of color high in her cheeks and her flashing eyes gave him all the answer he needed. "What's wrong Blair?" He swung his legs to the floor and closing his book, he made room for her to seat herself beside him.

Pacing the room like a bird fluttering in its cage she ignored the hint.

"It's Chuck."

"You went to see Chuck?" he asked noncommittally. The sick feeling in his stomach, for the first time, had nothing to do with the chemotherapy.

"Of course not!" She halted, stopping in front of him. "Well, not this time and that other time it was only because he blackmailed me," she confessed angrily, her secret spilling from her lips.

"Blair-"

"I didn't have a choice; he threatened to sleep with all our friends and tell them horrible lies about me. He was even going to set up a double date with that horrible Gemma woman and force us to play Parcheesi." Horrified, she stopped pacing and sank into the chaise beside him.

He blinked slowly looking at her through owl-like eyes. "Wait, you were at Emily's today. When did you see him?"

"Which time?" she asked, casting her eyes downward.

"Which time?" he echoed, bewildered. His head throbbed at trying to make sense, find logic within her ranting. "How many times have you seen him?"

"Three times and not by choice, I swear," she said wrathfully. She took his cold hand in her warm one, her brandy colored eyes meeting his. "I should have told you, but I was trying to protect you. There is nothing worse then dealing with a Bass on the warpath. "

He sighed, sliding his fingers through hers. "You can't keep these things from me. I know you want to protect me, but all you're doing is hurting me. When we married I promised to love and honor you and there is nothing you could do that would cause me to break those vows. So please, if you care about me, be honest and tell me the truth."

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you," she said passionately, clinging to his hand like a drowning victim to a raft. "The night of our dinner party he asked me to meet him for dinner. In typical Bass fashion he gave me a non-choice. I could either meet him now or he would systematically make my life miserable until I agreed to see him. We arranged to meet at his hotel in London a few days later

"The day of my first chemo treatment." It was all making sense. Her sudden decision to go shopping after he made it clear he wanted to be alone that day and her lack of shopping bags when he rejoined her in the Rolls for the ride home. "What happened?" He asked, needing to know no matter how much it might hurt.

"He told me he wanted to get married. He was crazy and possessive. I did everything I could to get him to believe that it was a mistake and that he should go home, but he didn't believe me. It wasn't until then that I realized that our night together meant more to him then sex." Her voice changed, becoming distant and shakier then she would have liked. "He tried to convince me to be with him the only way he knows how."

Cedric inhaled sharply, "Did anything-"

"Of course not, " she interrupted, with desperate firmness. "I know you don't have any reason to believe me, but the only time Chuck and I were together was the night we conceived in Paris. I should have given in and slept with him. If I had maybe this would all be over and he'd be gone by now. He always wants what he can't have. "

He slid his hand from hers, putting his arm around her shoulders to draw her closer to him. She leaned into his embrace, her confidence returning as she basked in his love. For a second the world stopped and she almost forgot the mess she had made.

"I have done everything to get through to him that I do not want him and yet he won't give up. In any other circumstance I would find this type of commitment and single-mindedness impressive, but this is Chuck Bass so it is to be expected," she said cynically.

"I'm guessing this is why you got involved with British Intelligence?" he asked, his mood changing as a shaft of sunlight broke through the gloom that cloaked his heart. For days he had lived in vague shadows, afraid to give voice to his worries. He hadn't wanted to pressure her, force her hand and give her a reason to leave.

"You knew about that?"

"Yes, well I'm afraid the PM called to congratulate me on your police work."

"But they let him go?" she asked, puzzled.

"Yes, but not before extorting quite a large financial commitment from him. You're a bit of a national hero, privately of course, for the sudden influx of Bass dollars in the economy."

"I'm never going to escape him," she exclaimed with irritation. "Even if he leaves, my name is now forever tied to him at the highest levels of government. Hopefully, our officials are better about gossiping than Gossip Girl otherwise all of society will begin wondering about our relationship."

"I wouldn't worry about it. This isn't something that either Chuck or the PM is going to want bandied about." His amusement fled as he realized that she still hadn't mentioned the other two times she had seen Chuck. "When else did you see him?" He asked in a gentle tone.

"I saw him the night of the Opera Benefit." She shifted next to him, sinking further into the protection of his arms.

"Earlier this week? Ian never mentioned it."

"I know. I asked him not to and he thought it best. We didn't want to upset you."

"Why, what happened? Ian should have been able to keep Chuck at bay."

"He did an excellent job; he was by my side most of the whole night," she said, evasively. It wasn't exactly a lie and she knew Ian would never tell. He wanted Cedric's peace and happiness as much as she did, but it was easier for him. He wasn't dancing with the devil like she was. Her guilt, like a starving animal, gnawed at her insides, leaching at her soul. What happened that night in the theatre box was something she could never share with Cedric. She deserved to carry the shame and pain of that encounter forever. It was now a piece of her that could never be purged. "I should probably tell you that Chuck purchased the Harry Winston necklace."

"You said the buyer was some obnoxious man-whore who hit on everything that walked-" He halted, reflecting for a moment. "Oh, I see. Why on earth would he do that? Maybe he has a mistress after all," he voiced hopefully.

"Hardly," she said dryly. He bought it as blackmail. He offered 140,000 pounds for it if we agreed to have dinner with him."

"The necklace is only worth a third of that!"

"I couldn't say no. That kind of money is something we can only dream of raising and he knew it. It was horrible. Everyone was there watching and wondering, waiting for me to fall," she said angrily.

"If there is one thing I know about you is that you know always rise to any occasion like a queen," he said soothingly. "I'm betting you accepted quite prettily by acting completely disaffected, put the rumours to rest."

"I tried, I really did. I've never wanted to hurt someone so badly."

"It was probably a good thing I was too sick to go because I might have," he said grimly. "Were you ever going to tell me about this little dinner we are supposed to have or were you trying your best to ignore it out of existence."

"Maybe a little," she said miserably.

"So that brings your little indiscretions up to today. What happened at Emily's?"

"He wormed his way into her good graces, completely hoodwinking her into thinking he was some kind of victim. She invited him there to get closure," she said, rolling her eyes. "The only closure Chuck needs after a one night stand is for his dates not to slam the door on their way out."

"I can't blame him for finding it hard to let you go. From what you told me I thought that whatever he felt for you was casual. Knowing you, I should have realized that your interpretation of the situation would be vastly different from the reality of it. I wanted to believe that he didn't care even though I knew how impossible it is to be with you and not love you. I'm worried about how far he is willing to take this infatuation," he sighed heavily, spreading his hand lovingly over her still flat stomach. "It won't be long before you start showing."

"It doesn't matter now. I made a huge miscalculation. I thought I could appeal to his sense of honor, his sense of decency. I neglected to remember he has none."

"What did you do?" he asked terrified, yet already knowing what her answer would be.

"I told him the truth," she said wretchedly. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to tell him, but I vomited all over the plants and he was so kind about it, blaming himself. He thought it was the bulimia and I couldn't let him think that he was causing my illness to resurface."

Cedric panicked, his heart throbbing. "You told him? He knows about the pregnancy?"

"I couldn't help it. I promise I will fix this. I will make him see that he owes it to me to let me raise this child. It if wasn't it for him abandoning me I never would have lost our first child. I won't let him take this one away from us. "

"If he loves you half as much as I do he won't let you or this child go. He won't stop and he will win because I have nothing left to offer you," he said, his voice breaking like a string of falling pearls.

"There is nothing he can offer that I want." She folded her fingers in his, gently embracing the child cocooned within her abdomen. "He's always been childish and right now I'm nothing more than a toy he can't have. Give it time and he will grow bored, find something else new and shiny," she said confidently, conveniently denying her own fear and trepidation. She knew, deep in her heart, that also like a child Chuck was extremely possessive of the things he thought were his.

"I hope you're right, but I think Chuck will surprise you. I don't think he is the person you remember any longer."

"It doesn't matter. It won't change what I feel for you." She turned to face him, reaching out to caress his cheek, her fingernails tenderly grazing his face. "I shouldn't have told him about the baby, but I couldn't lie anymore. I thought this would be easy. I thought I could lie to him and keep it a secret forever, but I couldn't. I had to tell him" She looked to him for understanding, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I understand," he sighed, sliding his thumb over the paper-thin silk blouse covering the smooth skin of stomach. Remembering the beautiful swell and curve that held another baby long ago, he felt his heart crack and bleed. "This is all my fault. I never should have let you go through with this. I should have realized what this would do to you, to us. God help me, I was blinded by the dream of what we once had and the son that we lost. I'm so sorry Blair."

"Don't blame yourself for this. It was my choice, my decision. I'm the one that stalked Chuck and took what I wanted without any thought for the consequences. I got us into this mess and I will get us out. Whatever it takes I will work something out with him, make him see that this baby belongs with us," she said with quiet desperation.

Cedric bent down, placing a lingering kiss on her stomach. Blair ran her fingers over Cedric's head, smoothing the golden strands now thin and fragile from the poison pumped into his system. She bravely stifled a cry as one of the curls he defiantly brushed straight every morning broke off, clinging to her fingers like broken bits of straw. Frowning she looked up as their idyll was interrupted by one of their servants entered the room, bowing apologetically and clearing his throat.

Cedric reluctantly sat up as Blair smoothed the wrinkles from her outfit, restoring a semblance of dignity for their visitor.

"Sir, Madam, this just arrived from London." Curtis presented the small package to Cedric.

"Who's it from?" Cedric asked curiously.

"No name or address. It was hand delivered by a courier service. Would you like me to call and find out?"

"No thanks," he said, taking the small box.

Blair looked on interestedly as Cedric untied the strings on the parcel carefully. Her breath caught in her lungs as the plain brown paper wrapping unveiled the unmistakable blue and white trappings of a small Tiffany's Box. Cedric wordlessly handed the box to Blair. In slow motion, she removed the small gift card, opening the envelope and pulling out the card. Blankly, she handed the card to Cedric.

"You still owe me dinner. My donation to the Opera Benefit can still be revoked. Don't make me wait to too long," he read aloud, softly. With trembling fingers she untied the virginal white ribbon and opened the box. Nestled in velvet was a solid silver teething rattle engraved 'Baby Bass'.

* * *

"Serena, my life's falling apart. I need you."

"Blair?" Serena asked, yawning into the phone.

"Serena, wake up! This is no time to sleep. Chuck's on a crusade," Blair whined impatiently.

"Blair? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Umm… what does time matter when there is a Bass at the door trying to blow my house down!"

"You do realize its 5 a.m. here."

"I know, but it couldn't wait. I needed to warn you and…I need you."

"Okay," Serena sighed. "Just a minute, I need to go somewhere else to talk." Blair waited, tapping her foot impatiently as she heard Serena murmur to Nate to go back to sleep. Inspecting the polish on her nails she continued to wait as she listened to the sounds of Serena swearing and stumbling into furniture. "What's got you so upset it can't wait until the sun's up," she grumbled.

"Please S, it's not like you're a vampire. Or is sleeping with Nate like being with the undead?"

"Blair," Serena warned.

"Sorry, I'm just upset. I didn't mean it," she apologized, like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Can you talk now? Nate can't hear us can he?"

"I don't think so. I'm pretty sure he fell back to sleep. We had a late night last-"

Blair interrupted hastily, "Yes, I'm sure you had a lovely time last night, but I need you to focus. It is imperative that Nate be kept from the details of this conversation. He's friends with _him_," she said scornfully, her tone leaving no doubt as to whom 'he' was.

"Blair…" Serena said warningly. "You know I hate keeping secrets from Nate."

"Well, this is one less you need to worry about. If he hasn't told him yet he will soon," she said despondently.

"Told Nate what?"

"The reason behind my little exile to France my senior year," Blair said stiffly.

"Oh, B… how did he find out? Are you okay? Do you need me to fly out? I can be there tomorrow," Serena promised.

"No, you need to stay with Nate and spy on him. You're my eyes and ears, my secret weapon. "

"I'm not going to use my relationship with Nate to play Mata Hari for you," Serena said bristling.

"Oh, I hadn't even thought of that, " Blair exclaimed. "Thank God, Nate has a thing for leggy blondes,

"Blair!

"Just a little pillow talk? I need to know what the Basstard is planning."

"Planning? Whatever are you talking about?" Serena asked.

"You can't share anything we are about to speak of now. I'm invoking the BFF code and all rights and responsibilities inherent with the position of BFF. As of right now we are in the zone of silence."

"Blair isn't this a little high school? "

My life is on the line, Serena!"

"Okay, okay, " she said meekly. "The Zone of silence is now in effect."

"I'm pregnant."

"Blair that is wonderful! I'm so happy for you. I know how hard you've been trying."

"It's not Ceddie's," Blair said wistfully.

"What? Whose is it?"

"Chuck's," Blair murmured, mournfully.

"Chuck's? What the hell, Blair? I still don't understand why you slept with him again, but why on earth didn't you double bag it? God knows who he's been with."

"I might have tried to get pregnant on purpose." The sentence poured from her mouth, the words blurring together like watercolours.

"What?" Serena shrieked.

"I know, I know. It was a crazy idea, but when Ceddie's cancer came back it was imperative that I do something about the heir situation. I can't let his family title become extinct. I can't be known as the last Lady Errol, the one that threw away hundreds of years of Errol legacy because I couldn't get knocked up."

"That's ridiculous. You can't hold yourself responsible like that. These things happen. Besides, the British system of peerage is an antiquated system that needs to die out anyway. "

"S, how can you mean that? Why, it is what separates us from them," Blair retorted with shock. "Without this system of distinction the whole fabric of British society would be torn apart. "

"And yet somehow us plebes in America manage just fine without," she said dryly. Her tone shifted growing shrill as she changed the subject, "What were you thinking, sleeping with Chuck?"

"I don't know. I went crazy when I found out Ceddie was sick again. I felt like such a failure after all the visits to the specialists and all the fertility treatments. The only time I ever conceived was that one unfortunate time with Chuck the night of the wedding. I thought I would give it one last try, use Chuck the way he used me. I needed something, anythingto focus on besides the cancer so I stalked him, waiting for the perfect time when I was at my most fertile. I gave myself one night with him, never believing it would work. "

"Blair, you do realize this is insane?"

"Maybe just a little," she admitted ruefully.

"Why didn't Cedric talk you out of this?"

"He tried, but you know how I get when I'm on a mission."

"I know, poor Cedric," Serena sighed, very much in sympathy with Blair's spouse.

"This was my last try. I could quit knowing I'd tried every avenue, done everything possible to have a child. I never dreamed that it would work.

When I found out I was pregnant it was the happiest moment in my life, so very different than the first time," she added grimly. "It was divine intervention. I was like Mary, without the virgin part, visited by the Holy Spirit via Bass Sperm."

"Who would have thought Chuck was the miracle cure for infertility. I don't even want to contemplate a world overrun with mini-Basses." Serena shuddered at the disturbing thought.

"What am I going to do? Ever since I hooked up with Chuck he's has been haunting me. He is the ghost of past hook-ups you want to forget; only he resists all my attempts at exorcism.

"Does he know about the pregnancy?"

"I didn't mean to tell him but I think the pregnancy hormones addled my brain. I threw up this afternoon in some plants right in front of him and before I knew it I was sharing my deepest, darkest secrets."

"I take it he didn't take the news well?"

"No, he didn't. Ever since I slept with him he's been possessed with the idea of getting married. He's convinced himself that he loves me and that we should be together. Now I've made it worse by giving him exactly what he wants, something else he can use to threaten and control me. He wants me to leaved Ceddie, marry him and have this baby together"

"As much as it pains me to say this, and trust me it does, I think you're being unfair to Chuck. While he redefines the term, 'pretentious asshole', in his treatment of others, when it comes to you it is obvious that you mean something special to him. Even before you hooked up he always treated you differently more as an equal than anyone else. Ever since, as much as he's tried to hide it, he's only had eyes for you. It was obvious that all of his scheming and plotting was just his sick way of earning your love, winning you back. Up until Bart's death you were the focus of all his attentions, good or bad. He's never been quite the same since the funeral. I think he just gave up, shut down and he's been treading water ever since. Unwittingly or not, you opened Pandora's box when you met with him in Paris, putting into motion all the wanting and longing that was stunted and stifled by Bart's death.

"That's ridiculous. If he cared so much he had years to contact me. Why now? Just because he's remembered I exist?

"In a way, yes. I think because you left so soon after Bart died it made it easy to grieve for you like you had also died. When he saw you again, part of him that had lain dormant was reborn. For him it must seem a bit like Rip Van Winkle. He's spent the last few years going through the motions as though asleep but now you've opened his eyes to what he's missed and what he could have had if only he had done things differently. I can't pretend to understand Chuck, but you should have known that things between you are so complicated you could never be just a one-night stand. You poked at a sleeping tiger and now you're going to have to pay the price.

Blair sighed, "What am I going to do?"

"I don't know. How did he take the news about your first pregnancy and miscarriage?

"He tried to convince me that I should have told him. That he would have changed, done thing differently if he had known. All the usual excuses."

"Hmmm."

"You don't really believe him?" Blair asked with amazement.

"I think we might have made a mistake by not telling him. We never gave him a chance. As I've gotten older I've seen that people can change. Look at Nate"

"Nate is hardly the poster child for character reformation. His slutting around in no way compares to Chuck's many sins."

Serena chose to overlook the slight insult to boyfriend's character. "What are you going to do? You have to know Chuck isn't going to give up. You're carrying his child."

"I know. I need to find something I can bargain with, something to convince him to let this baby have the Errol name. I owe Cedric an heir and Chuck certainly owes me for all the suffering he put me through," she said bitterly. "After all, he didn't have to watch as my body slowly killed our baby. He didn't have to hold our tiny stillborn son in the palm of his hand. He certainly wasn't there when Ceddie and I dressed him in his funeral clothes and buried him in the Errol cemetery." Her voice was chilly and distant, her tears long since frozen.

Serena cried for her, tears misting her face like morning rain. "I'm so sorry, Blair. I should have been there for you. I would have, you know, you only needed to call."

"It okay, S. You can stop crying. Don't bother to deny it, I know you are," she laughed hollowly, heartbreak in her voice. "I've shed enough tears for both of us. It was better that you stayed home. It would only have looked suspicious if you had up and left so suddenly. Besides, Ceddie was there for me. I will always owe him for that. "

"I know you didn't want Chuck to ever find out, but isn't it a relief to have the truth out? Secrets and lies will eat away at you eventually."

"S, you are so deluded," she said condescendingly. "Secretsand white lies are what keeps the chaos at bay, keeps people from killing one another. Can you imagine a world where everyone told the truth all the time?"

"Well, even if you're not relieved, I'm glad that the truth is finally out. I don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or having it accidentally slip out in front of Nate. As it is he's not going to be happy knowing we kept this from him for six years"

"I'm sorry. I never meant for this to come between you and Nate. I just knew that if he knew it would be a matter of hours before he slipped up and told Chuck. Things will be okay with him won't they?"

"Don't worry I know he will understand."

"There is something else I need to tell you. It's Cedric, the cancer is getting worse. The chemotherapy isn't working, they're predicting he has anywhere from nine to eighteen months, " Blair said brokenly, tears breaking through like rain after a long drought.

"Oh, B. I'm so sorry."

The seconds stretched to minutes as the ice melted, breaking the dam Blair had so painstakingly erected around her heart. Serena offered what little comfort she could to her best friend and the sister of her heart as Blair sobbed into the phone. In time, Blair was spent, the tears crystallizing once more.

* * *

_A/N: Please let me know what you think. Any thoughts, positive or negative, are welcome.  
_

_Thanks and love to: __**uncorazonquebrado, **__**sweetshorti868, Lilly, , Arazadia, Lauren1102, Gina, teddy bear, Roswell Dream Girl, hopelessromantic549, **__**laurienlaurie, jennfa61484, PlayerWantsPrince, **__**Syrianora, Madelinex, odyjha, , **__**Venetia Carianna, flipped, Melena Gold, finnlover **and** Courtney. **__  
_

_Love and eternal eternal gratitude go to my dearest friend and fabulous beta Felicia (puresimplicity-xo).  
_


	9. Chapter 9

Blair bustled around the London townhouse, blowing out the candles the staff had lit for dinner. Hitting the light switch, she removed all hollows and tender shadows from the room, flooding it with bright artificial light. She huffed in exasperation as she noticed that the place settings for dinner had been placed intimately close to each other. Stubbing her Manolo clad toe against the walnut dining room table leg, she gathered up the heavy, solid silver and monogrammed, bone china. Hurrying, she rushed to arrange the place settings at the opposite ends of the table, as far apart as possible. Normally when she and Cedric were staying here, they dispensed with the formality of dining across from each other at the antique, twelve-foot, trestle table. Instead they chose to sit next to each other, making it easier to share dishes and converse. Tonight, however, talking and lingering over dinner were the last things she wanted to do. The plan was to dine as quickly as possible, fulfilling her obligation of dinner with Chuck. To further facilitate this, she had ordered the meal to be served family style, and she had made sure to include the most vulgar dishes she could think of. There would be no lingering in between courses, no excuse for in-depth conversation. As soon as dinner had been eaten, her end of the contract would be fulfilled and she would be able to send him scuttling out the door and back to the web he came from.

Promptly at seven he arrived, entering the room as the last chime sounded on the old mantel clock.

"You're on time," she said disappointedly, glaring at him in disapproval. She couldn't help moistening her lips a little as she took in his appearance. As always, he was perfectly attired in a black Italian custom suit, with his usual touch of rebellion in the form of a lavender paisley ascot and pocket-handkerchief.

"Did you really think I would miss even one second of the time you so graciously allotted for our dinner?" Chuck said, smirking. "There seems to be a missing component to this little affair. Where is your husband?" He looked around the room, faking wide-eyed confusion. "I can't believe he would miss dinner with his wife's cherry popper, the plucker of her lady flower, the guy who stamped her vadge badge—"

"Enough, Chuck." Blair hissed, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Has he given up already, then? Given us his blessing?"

"Hardly." Glaring at him, she took a deep breath before seating herself at the table; a subtle hint, proving she was far too mature to give into his juvenile behavior. "Cedric will not be joining us. He is not doing very well today. He had another round of chemotherapy yesterday." With a trembling hand she reached out for her crystal water goblet, hiding her anguish in the mundane ritual of drinking water.

His face fell slightly, all malicious joy fading from the cynical lines in his face, tiny pinpricks of pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Blair."

She nodded, looking at him in puzzlement over the edge of her goblet. To say she was shaken at his unusual consideration of her feelings was a shocking understatement. His momentary kindness tore at wounds already raw and throbbing. "I didn't expect to see you. I thought you would give up, find something new and shiny to distract you," she reasoned, stiffly returning her glass to the table.

"Ah, yes, I suppose you are referring to the bevy of beauties that have constantly hounded my every step, throwing themselves at me. While I do have quite the reputation in the bedroom, never before have I had so many women begging for a night alone with me. I've been practically forced to hire a bodyguard to keep them off me. Another one of your little games, my dear?" Striding confidently to the bar, he helped himself to a scotch, pouring the amber liquid into the waiting tumbler appreciatively.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she grumbled.

"Really?" He raised one brow mockingly. "So it just conveniently happens that none of the very willing ladies sent my way happens to be brunette? I've had women of every race and every hair color, save one, practically salivating when I even look in their direction. Funny how none of them resembles you in the slightest: red heads, blondes, dark hair and light hair, but none with coloring that in any way resembles yours. What are you trying to prove, Blair?"

"Nothing," she said sullenly, refusing to look him in the eyes. Her knuckles blossomed white as they gripped the arms of her walnut, Queen Anne chair.

Drinking deeply of his scotch, he drained the glass, his eyes never leaving her face. "My compliments to your husband. He has excellent taste in Scotch."

Pouring another one, he slowly made his way to her side, standing behind her, as close as he could get without breaking the back of her chair. Leaning in, his lips hovered over her ear, his breath feathering the wispy curls that had escaped her tightly rolled chignon. "I think you're deliberately trying to set me up to betray you and yet at the same time ensuring I don't," he chuckled. "Test me all you want Blair, send me a perfect copy of you right down to the La Perla's. It won't matter. You're everything I've ever wanted, everything I've dreamed about and I won't do anything to jeopardize our future. I'm not the same person you remember."

"You're exactly the same childish, selfish and arrogant asshole I remember. I have continuously made clear how I feel, but here you are, buying your way into my home," she countered, her mouth pursed in frustration.

"I wouldn't have to if you would just give me a chance." His lips brushed across her earlobe like fairy wings, the muscular length of his body pinioning her to the dining room table.

Wavering, her body responding to his gentle attention, she focused her mind with sharp clarity on picturing him enjoying the attentions of every one of the very expensive prostitutes she had sent his way.

"You were supposed to sleep with at least one of them. They were the most skilled and expensive I could find," she said with irritation, her fingers now clasped tightly together in her lap. "They should have been all over you. I offered a bonus to the first one to prove she slept with you." She couldn't help the sharp pang of desire that flooded her, crashing into her from the top of her head to the tips of her painted red toes as he continued his tender attention to her ear, the hollow behind it and the tender curl of sensitive earlobe. Her eyes fluttered closed, her mind already drifting into a world filled only with Chuck and the pleasure he gave. "Those women were gorgeous. What was wrong with them?"

"They weren't you." He reverently placed a kiss on her shoulder, slipping the Harry Winston necklace from the Opera Benefit around her neck before she had a chance to notice and protest. "I see you remembered to save a place for my gift," he smirked.

She shuddered as the tiny clasp clicked shut like the door of a prison cell, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird in an ornate, Victorian cage. "My lack of jewelry had nothing to do with you. I just happened not to have anything that matched my outfit."

"Your dress is black, Blair," he pointed out, amused.

"Perfectly fitting for our little dinner of the damned," she said tartly.

"I'm perfectly willing to spend eternity in hell if I can spend my life with you."

"Chuck—"

"Don't, " he interrupted. "Let me enjoy this moment for just a minute before you start with the arguing again." He painted her neck with kisses, lingering in just the right spots to set her skin aflame, to make her weak in the knees.

"Chuck," she sighed. Her body, thick like molten lava, pulled devastatingly slowly and reluctantly away from him.

He leaned in further to place a kiss like a melting snowflake on her delicate shoulder, before burying himself once more in her neck. Inhaling deeply her sweet and familiar scent, he acceded to her plea, giving in to maintain the uneasy peace that temporarily lay between them. He counted the seconds, promising himself five blissful moments before he untangled himself from paradise.

She waited perfectly poised, her mask once more in place, the ice around her heart solidifying into a glacial mass once more. When he finally rose, she found that no matter how much she hid her heart, hardened it to him, the loss of his nearness was a painful stab she couldn't fully prepare herself against. No matter how hard she tried, she would just have to accept that she would never be immune to him. Accepting this was going to kill her.

Chuck appraised the dinner spread with an amused look. "Really Blair, snails in angel hair pasta with hotdogs and…is that a jello salad?" He shuddered in horror. "I would be worried that your pregnancy hormones had run amuck if I wasn't so certain that this was your passive aggressive way to curtail the dinner experience before it began."

"Dinner not quite up to your standards? Are you sure you don't want to try even a taste?" She taunted sarcastically even as she began to turn a bit green herself as she contemplated the food.

"I find there are other things I would much prefer to taste," he leered suggestively.

"Those are not on the menu," she said primly, the corners of her mouth falling into a perfect, red, petulant frown.

"Maybe not tonight, but I won't wait long." Noticing her slight color change, he strode to the other side of the room. Seating himself on the burgundy tapestry settee, he gave her a reason to change scenes, to get away from the dinner table. His move allowed her the illusion that it wasn't weakness that caused her to move away from the revolting dinner. This way it would seem like she hadn't lost any ground, even when he knew she had. He smirked in satisfaction when she followed him and stood near enough that with a few steps, he could catch her in his arms if he so chose. He peered at her through dark, cloudy and calculating eyes. If he couldn't get what he wanted; physical intimacy, he would settle for another type, one that he would abhor with anyone else; emotional intimacy.

"Tell me about the baby we lost."

She turned to marble before his eyes. Her hands clenched the taffeta fabric of her dress, bunching it between her fingers. The sound of her nails snagging the delicate fabric rustled in the air. The dress would forever now be ruined.

"There is nothing to tell." Her voice, while calm, hinted at the turbulence of emotion that lay buried in waters that were not as still and icy as she pretended.

"There is everything to tell," he said angrily, his voice like flint. "You, Serena and even Cedric have all wronged me by conspiring to hide my child from me. Even if for the rest of you this is all in the past, for me it happened just days ago." His voice was hoarse with emotion. "Maybe all of you can pretend that this all happened so long ago that it doesn't matter, but to me it means everything."

"Let it go, Chuck. Nothing good will come from dredging up the past," she said wearily, her fingers massaging her temples tiredly.

"You owe me." His countenance became rigid, raw emotion lurking in the hard planes of his face.

She sighed, her heart cracking like ice in an early spring thaw. She had gone years without speaking of the child she had lost, and now it seemed like it was all she spoke about. The last thing she wanted to remember was the baby she had never wanted, that had become her sole reason for existing during those few short months eight years ago. "I really don't want to talk about it," she said sharply, the familiar prickle of tears threatening the corners of her eyes.

"Please," he rasped, a cry of hollow pain.

It was the 'please' that undid her resolve. Chuck never begged. Not for anything and not to anyone, and yet here he was, pleading for her to tell him about their child – a child she was sure he had never wanted. She remembered vividly all of his admonitions to Nate about always taking precautions, and his horror at the possibility that some woman might take advantage, using a pregnancy to control him. He had always joked that if he ever found himself in that position, he had a very private doctor on speed dial for exactly these types of situations. She had always had no doubts that this was the decision he would have forced on her; something she wasn't sure she wanted at the time, something she later decided she could never do.

She walked over to the window, the heavy, gold, damask drapes not yet drawn for the evening. Staring into the empty, dark, desolate garden below, the trees like gangly skeletons thrashing at the moon, she made up her mind. Tightening every muscle, straightening every bone, she fought the whirlwind of emotion she knew would come once she started reminiscing.

"I was almost seven months along when I lost him," she said simply, blankly. The lack of emotion in her voice told him exactly how much it still affected her.

"We had a son." His voice was full of awe, like he stood before a holy relic. He went to stand beside her, not daring to touch her, afraid to jeopardize this unexpected change in their relationship.

"Yes." She smiled faintly into the dark, as she remembered her greatest joy and her greatest pain. "He was perfect in every way. Ten fingers, ten toes and the tiniest tuft of fine dark hair. I always thought I wanted a daughter, but when I saw him on the ultrasound, kicking and swirling, I realized that I never wanted anything else in the world but him."

His mind slowed like molasses on a hot day as he processed this new and precious information. It was true he had never wanted a family, had never dreamed of being a father, in fact done everything in his power to destroy any possibility – except that one time, by accident, that he didn't even really remember; the night of Eleanor's wedding. Yet today he would give everything he owned to have his son alive. He thought of all the things he would do differently to his father; the love he would shower on his son, the relationship they would have…

"What happened?" He asked, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He knew that whatever came next would be a blow to his heart.

"I don't know. He just stopped." Her voice splintered like a broken china teacup. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself before continuing. "He had always been so active. I swear he never slept. He kicked from morning 'til night, until I was sure I was bruised everywhere inside, and then… one day it just stopped. I had an ultrasound almost immediately and it was obvious to the doctor that he was gone. They didn't know why. With my age and the bulimia, it was a high-risk pregnancy to start with… although they were quick to reassure me that sometimes these things just happen through no fault of the mother's," she said distantly, her mind in another time, another place where sadness dwelled.

"I'm so sorry, Blair." He meant it. He desperately wanted her to know how much he meant it. He stood and walked towards her, stopping just inches away. He lifted his hand to touch her shoulder, only a wisp of air separating them, only to let it fall back at his side. He wouldn't push it, couldn't push himself on her now. He needed to let her come to him if they were ever going to get anywhere.

She turned to face him, her eyes shining with unshed tears that glowed like dying stars. "That wasn't the worst of it. I was so far along I had to carry him to term, give birth as if he was still alive. It was the worst few months of my life. You can't even begin to imagine the pain and horror of it. I think I would have died if Cedric hadn't been there."

"Blair…" Her name on his lips was a cry of pain or a maybe a plea for forgiveness for not being there, he wasn't sure which. He held out his arms hoping, praying ardently that she would finally accept his comfort, allow them this time to grieve for what they had lost.

She didn't hesitate. The next moment she was in his arms, his shirt muffling her sobs, her fingers clutching his lapels. His arms enfolded her as he murmured soft, soothing sounds in her ear. He couldn't bear to think of her alone and suffering for his sin, while he cursed her name in a drunken haze from within the arms of so many women, whose names and faces he could no longer recall. He made a vow then and there that she would never be alone and unprotected again. He would do everything in his power to cocoon her in a world of silken cotton, ensuring that she would never be broken again.

The minutes ticked by slowly and still he held her. Taking directions from her heart over her mind, she gave in to the relief he offered. She was boneless in his arms, her soft curves fitting perfectly in unison with his hard edges as his hands rubbed her back soothingly. For the first time since she could remember, she let him, Chuck Bass, give her a rare moment of solace.

"When he was born, Cedric wrapped him up in the Errol ceremonial blanket and let me hold him. He was so beautiful. He looked just like he was sleeping. He was so tiny he fit in the crook of my arm." She said, choking through her tears, barely able to continue. "They let us spend time with him, say our good-byes before he was buried in the Errol mausoleum.

Chuck waited for her to compose herself before asking the question he had often wondered about since finding out about their baby. "What did you name him?"

She rested her head against his shoulder turning so her lips almost grazed his neck. "Edward Bartholomew Harold Errol."

"After my father?" He asked, looking confused. He never would have thought that after everything that had happened, everything she had gone through, that she would have granted him this concession.

"Yes," she hesitated for only a moment before continuing, "I wanted your son to have a piece of you and somehow it felt appropriate."

"Thank you." He took it as a compliment or an apology of sorts, so he conveniently overlooked the insult that was his son's last name. "Why Edward? I understand Harold, but Edward?" He asked, scrunching his nose disdainfully.

"After Cedric's father. I thought it was obvious that the name had a father theme. And what's wrong with Edward?" She asked haughtily, beginning to pull away from him. "It's a perfectly respectable, English name. There have been seven kings named Edward," she informed him factually.

He cupped the back of her head with his hand, pushing her gently back into the safety and warmth of his arms. "Nothing. There is nothing wrong with it. It is a wonderful name," he yielded. He would agree to any name being perfect; anything that would keep her close to him.

"Perhaps it wasn't my first choice, but there is a tradition to be upheld when naming a future Errol," she pointed out diplomatically.

It was him this time that pushed her away. "I wish you would stop forgetting that he was not, is not and never will be an Errol. He was a Bass. If you had any sense you would never have run off to France and gotten married. You would have stayed where you belong and we would have gone through this together."

She bristled in shock and anger, her eyes narrowing into coffee colored slits. "What fairytale are you living in? Do you even remember what state you were in when Jack brought you back from Bangkok? You were practically an opium addict." Her anger quickly evaporated, her shoulder slumping wearily as the stress from the last few days became too much to bear. "I honestly thought I was making the best choice for everyone concerned. You never gave anyone reason to believe that you ever wanted to be a father, and I didn't want you trying to force a decision on me that I wasn't sure I wanted."

He regarded her sadly, his own anger dissipating as he remembered what a mess he was then, how he had never given her any reason to suppose he would be there for her. "Maybe you're right, but I still should have been told. What Serena and you did, what Cedric did, giving his name to my son, was wrong."

"Maybe…" After all this time she didn't want to admit she might have made a mistake. To look too closely at her decision then would force her to take an even harder look at her present decisions – something she was not prepared to do.

"It's not too late. We've been give a rare chance to undo the past," he said urgently, his eyes searching hers for a way in, a chance to connect. "Maybe karma's offered us a way to right a wrong, given us a chance to redeem ourselves." He reached out tenderly to grasp her hand, threading his large fingers through her dainty ones. "We can get it right this time."

She looked down at their entwined hands, mesmerized by the two halves that had become a whole. "I'm tired, Chuck. Let it go for now. Give me some time," she said quietly.

Chuck stood still, his gaze never leaving Blair's for a moment. He silently took in the ashen tinge to her skin, the dark circles that were just hinted at under her eyes. She was still beautiful, but there was a shadow that hovered over her. She needed rest, and so did their baby. He didn't want to leave, didn't want this evening to end. He wanted to stay close to her, love and cherish every inch of her, but he knew that that would only force her further away. They had gotten somewhere tonight, somewhere he hadn't expected, and he was willing to be unselfish for once. She needed rest and she wouldn't get that with him here.

"Alright," he said softly, unhesitatingly.

She stared at him in bewilderment, a question hovering over her lips that was never voiced.

"I'm not the ogre you think I am. I can be surprisingly merciful to those I love," he said sarcastically.

She nodded, ignoring his attempt at humor, and slowly let go of his hand. "Thank you. I won't forget this."

"We'll talk again soon," he promised.

She stared at his back warily as he casually, and with regret, slowly left the room, making sure to walk as far as possible from the dinner that now lay cold on the dining room table.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to my wonderful reviewers: Krazy4Spike, poochbello, Arazadia, SnowedUnderNJ, ilovewaldass06, XanaLinks, Syrianora, Yei, Izzie, uncorazonquebrado, ForgetMeNevermore, Janna, cridzie, guardian izz, se1ge, cynicalshadows, 24hrscout, , Livily, Venetia Carianna, Venetia Carianna, odyjha, Kensley-Jackson, , Nicoley117-LadyBlueMartini, :D, xoxogg4lifexoxo and flipped. Your comments and thoughts really drive this story. :D

Thanks to my Madeleinex for being a last minute beta. With her this chapter is so much more palatable.


	10. Chapter 10

Blair was dying a little with every breath. Her heart was on fire and burning its way out of her breast. Her mind was a hellish pit of conflicted emotion and her only thought was that she needed him now more than she had ever needed anyone. She craved the release, the mind numbing state that only he could give her.

It didn't take long for him to answer the door, his evening scotch hanging lazily from one hand, his shirt already partially unbuttoned. She didn't say a word, just pushed her way into his suite, throwing her arms around his neck, kissing him as if she was sucking his very soul from his bones. He started to fall backwards, catching himself as the crystal glass in his hand fell to the floor, shattering. Lost in each other, neither noticed the amber liquid snaking among the splintered glass and staining the teak floors.

Regretfully, he pulled away and held her at arms' length, searching her face for clues to this highly strange and un-Blair-like behavior. She wouldn't be studied. She grandly swept past him into the room, his eyes following her every move. Scrutinizing her carefully, he took in every inch of her face and body. Her eyes were wild and dark, her hair unbound from her tight chignon, the curls rioting across her shoulders and back and her lips full and pouting. This was the Blair he had been dreaming of. Untamed, carnal, and so very beautiful. Yet there was something wrong, something off about her tonight.

She looked at him nervously, her hands twitching at her side, itching to touch and tear at him. The electricity between them sparked even as his heart warned him to take care, to weigh things before jumping in headfirst, even if it was Blair and she clearly had one thing on her mind.

She circled him slowly, not menacingly but seductively, her eyes full of lascivious intent. For the first time, she was the predator and he the prey.

"Blair," he said softly, dangerously.

"Chuck," she whispered breathily. "I love the way you same my name, you make it sound like a sin." Her mouth searched out his with hungry urgent kisses. She covered his hand, pulling it against her face, each beat of her heart filled with solid need and desire. It was always like this. When she was terribly insecure, she could count on him to make love to her and she would become whole. When she was in his arms, all the hurt and all the pain disappeared.

Their mouths met and mated, consuming each other, their bodies locked together in a timeless dance. His tongue thrust hard and deep and before she could react, it softened, becoming thorough, tasting everything she had to offer. When he finally pulled away, she was dazed and throbbing with a horrible need and urgency. His sexual tension radiated from him in waves, but he gently brushed her cheek with his finger, his fingers caressing a curl before his hands fell once more to his side.

"What's wrong?" he asked hoarsely.

"Nothing," she said pouting, her hand reaching out to cradle his face in the lightest of caresses. She stepped nearer to him, her other hand pulling at his lapel, daring him to come closer and take what she was offering.

"Don't fuck with me. I know when something is wrong and you are acting as if your world has fallen apart."

"Hasn't it?" she countered, running her hands over the smooth planes of his chest, her nails rubbing lightly at his skin through the delicate silk of his shirt. "I'm married to a man already in the grave and carrying another man's child. How else am I supposed to act?" she asked sardonically, leaning in to softly press her lips against his collarbone. He shivered against the heat of her mouth before grabbing her by the arms and pulling her even closer to him. Her mouth opened under his, eagerly meeting his demands. Blair trembled against him as his hands ran up her back, caressing every vertebra, his chest rubbing against her sensitive, full breasts, her nipples hardening deliciously. Like a cat in heat she rubbed against him, seeking relief from the need that was pooling between her thighs.

"Blair, we need to stop," he murmured, reluctantly untangling her fingers and stepping away once more. He knew in his heart that something was wrong, something beyond what she said. He knew her like no other and she was once more keeping information from him, no doubt very vital information. As much as he wanted her, and God did he ever, he wanted it to be different this time.

She bristled, practically hissing at him. "What is wrong with you? You have been trying to sleep with me for weeks and now, when I finally give in, you can't be bothered? I can't believe I was right – this is just all a game to you." Her voice broke as tears gathered in her eyes.

"No, Blair. You tempt me like no other woman ever has," he rasped, barely restrained. "But I won't have another one night stand. No matter how much it hurts me to say no, I won't be played again."

She stared at him wide eyed, like a deer facing a shotgun. "What do you want?" she asked hesitating, uncertainty creaking in her voice.

"I told you before, marriage. I want you to be my wife," he said firmly, his tone final.

She realized in that moment that he wasn't going to ever change his mind, not now and not ever. She couldn't think, could barely breathe. All she could think about was him and all she knew was want. She needed to forget and for that she would make a deal with the devil.

"What do you want me to do, marry you tonight?" she asked shaken, half afraid and half excited that he would keep her there until he did just that.

"If I could," he said dryly. Tenderly he reached out for her hands and turned them palms up, kissing first one and than the other. "If I had my way, I'd send for a justice of the peace and marry you here in my bed before you had a chance to think or manipulate your way out of it."

His mouth slid along her fingers, hot and wet. She gasped in shock as her wedding ring fell off and dropped to the floor. With his tongue he kissed and licked at the almost virginal skin and the small mark that remained from eight years of constant wear. She swayed, mesmerized by the pleasure that he could give using only one of her fingers. Hot fire coursed through her belly at the wicked thoughts of what she really wanted his tongue to be doing.

He glanced up at her over her hand, staring directly into her eyes, grinning as if he could read her mind. He chuckled as she wrenched her hand away, her eyes sweeping the carpet for her wedding ring. He watched in appreciation, his eyes caressing the most perfect ass he had ever seen as she bent over to pick them up.

"Don't, Blair," he warned, as she started to slide the ring back on. "Do not speak and do not move." She stared in shock as he turned to leave the room. Straightening her clothes dismay and disappointment at her seduction skills quickly turned to anger. Within seconds he was back with a small black velvet box. Without explanation, he opened it with a grand gesture and plucked a huge diamond and platinum ring from its velvet cocoon and slid it over her finger. Blair could only stare in awe as the gem dazzled and refracted the light, throwing a prism of color against the wall.

She swallowed hard; she was breaking and being torn in two. She was scared that if he pushed much harder she would shatter. She would never be the winner in this game. She had played her cards and lost everything and she was surely damned. No matter what choices she made or what happened next, she was doomed to taste the bitter fruits of betrayal for the rest of her life.

Hot tears scalded her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. He leaned in to press kisses on her forehead, his lips fluttering over her eyelids with fairy kisses. With his tongue he delicately traced her tears, tasting her defeat. He mouthed his way to her ear, the outer shell blushing pink under his hot breath.

"Say yes, Blair," he whispered.

She ignored him. Leaning in on tiptoe, she crashed her mouth into his. He did not move, his lips firm and closed beneath hers. She kissed him again and again, sucking first one lip and then the other between her full plump lips. He fortified his heart, he would not give in, not until he received the answer he desired. At least that was supposed to be the plan, but it had been too long and every bone every muscle in his body craved her like an addict to a drug. With Blair, one taste would never be enough. As long as she wore his ring, that was enough for now. He could compromise. Desire rose into a whirlwind of heat, driving him mad. He seized her, jerking her head back and kissing her back ruthlessly. His hands gripped her hair, pulling her closer as he ravaged her mouth.

"You're going to be my wife. Not Cedric's. Mine," he vowed, a threat and a promise coiled in velvet seduction.

She responded by unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, her hands needing to feel his skin. She slid her palms over the firm planes of his sculpted chest. He gasped in desire as her nails scraped his nipples, marking him lightly. His chest rose and fell, his breath quick and heavy as he luxuriated in the feel of her hands on him. He groaned in delight as her lips followed her hands, her mouth nuzzling his chest, her teeth lightly dancing against his skin. His hands shook with tension as they moved up and down her back, pulling her blouse upwards and exposing her satiny skin. His hand slid underneath the waistband of her skirt, cupping and massaging her smooth buttocks. He plucked playfully with the lacy back of her thong with just the right tension to rub it across her sex to make her buck against him. "I have missed you, Blair," He said hoarsely, muffling a moan.

She reached up to grip his hair, yanking his head up to meet hers. Her tongue screamed her need with thrusts and dances. She had missed him too, but she couldn't speak, not now; she didn't trust herself. She was here to forget, to allow herself one night of brilliant pleasure before it all fell apart.

She cradled his head in her hands, their bodies locking together as she kissed him desperately, explosively.

"Please…"

He understood. He lifted her into his arms carrying her to the bedroom. Her eyes captured his, need bursting from their depths as she unzipped her skirt, the silk fluttering like a flame to the floor. Her blouse followed until she stood only in her La Perla's and stockings. They fell together on the bed in a flurry of need, hard muscles melting into soft curves. Blair guided his hand down her body, her heart pumping longing and want with every beat. He smirked knowingly, chuckling at her eagerness. His hand rent her thong in two, the halves thrown haphazardly to the floor. He didn't wait, his hand quickly finding her most intimate spot. Blair moaned wildly as he touched her wet and burning flesh. Chuck made a hard and thick sound as his skilled fingers played and tormented her. She cried in displeasure as he abruptly stopped his ministrations, only to exhale sharply as he replaced fingers with tongue and lips. He left not an inch of her unexplored. His clever tongue knew every sweet fold, every valley and every peak. He brought her to the brink and back again before finally granting her wish. The floor tilted and stars fell as she hissed his name.

When she finally crashed to the earth it was to see him smirking at her, like a cat that has swallowed the canary. His eyes gleamed, his pleasure at her loss of control evident in the flicker of his dark eyes. She refused to dwell in reality and instead reached for him, her hands gripping his hair, drawing him close.

"I need you again," she whispered, biting her lip. Freeing her right hand from the tangles of his wild hair, she reached for his belt. Chuck tensed in anticipation. She nipped and kissed at his neck, smiling in satisfaction as she felt him tremble, and his breath come faster and faster. "Stay still," she demanded as she rid him of his belt and unzipped his trousers.

"Blair," he breathed.

She stroked him, just once and looked up at him teasingly. His smile became strained and tense. "If you expect me to beg like you I warn you it will never happen. I am a very patient man," he said hoarsely.

She teased him, her fingers sliding down the length of him before removing his remaining clothing. "We shall see," she said sweetly.

He sucked in his breath, giving her a look of exquisite torture. He fought bravely and it wasn't until she bent and touched the fully erect tip with her tongue that he lost the battle. "Please, Blair," he cried as he came undone.

Within minutes he was ready and writhing for more. He crushed her to him, his mouth swooping down to meet hers, his lips avid and tormented. His hands molded every curve and her fingers curled around his buttocks as she pressed him back in return. He crushed her to the mattress and her nails clawed their way up his back. He kissed her as he slid into her, devouring her, demanding everything she had to give. Their lovemaking was desperate and fierce, neither one giving in to the other. The world fell away, darkness and shadows swallowing them as they pummeled and slammed into each other until there was nothing but bliss. Again and again they came together. Finally spent, they lay together in quiet, treasuring and luxuriating in the feel of each other.

It wasn't until morning light filtered through the shades that Chuck awoke. With trepidation in his heart, he searched for sounds of her presence, the sight of her lush body. There was nothing but stillness. Sometime in the middle of the night she had left again, darkness cloaking her. He would have believed the whole thing a dream if it weren't for the two halves of red La Perla's taunting him from the floor. Rising, he reached for his velvet robe, throwing it over his shoulders as he strode through his suite, searching out the velvet box that had held all his hopes and desire. A smile of blinding happiness crossed his face as he realized the box was empty. He had won a major play. She had taken his ring.

It wasn't until he read his morning paper that he found the real reason for her evening visit. His eyes froze over the headline, the one on the third page, _Eleventh Earl of Dorincourt, Cedric Errol, found dead from apparent self inflicted gunshot wound._

_

* * *

**Thanks goes too: **_**puresimplicity-xo, Cascia, uncorazonquebrado, yei, Kensley-Jackson, 24hrscout, Venetia Carianna, CanYouSayItTwice, XanaLinks, :D, laurienlaurie and Shanynde.**

**Special thanks go to poochbello for looking over the chapter and making me feel less insecure and the amazing Madeleinex for her awesome beta job.**


	11. Chapter 11

He hadn't planned or even wanted to attend the funeral of Lord Errol, but he found he couldn't stay away. It was imperative he be there in case she needed him. He had tried everything over the last week to see her. Somehow she had skillfully avoided him at every turn. He had been forced to turn to his only connection, the one person he had almost as much reason to be angry with as Blair, Serena. She was his only contact with Blair so he had put aside his feelings, using her for any precious grains of information he could glean.

She had been surprisingly kind, encouraging him to be patient, letting him know that Blair, while shaken and upset, was holding up. Serena had flown to London almost immediately and while she refused to see him, she had kept him apprised of Blair's emotional state almost daily. When she first arrived, he had peppered her constantly with texts and calls until she threatened to completely cut him off. They had finally reached an amenable agreement; she would check in with him at least once a day and he would ease up on the harassment. He had been on a crusade ever since to make himself available at all hours in case Blair wanted him. Unfortunately, there had been only silence from her. Even when he stormed her London residence, she had made sure he wasn't admitted. After that embarrassing display of practically being thrown out of her house by a large burly footman, he had respected her wishes and kept his distance.

Now here he was, lurking at her dead husband's funeral, staring at the small black clad figure that leaned on Serena like she was her anchor in a swirling storm at sea. He wanted it to be him she leaned on, him that kept her safe, but even he realized the inappropriateness of the situation. They wouldn't be able to continue this pattern of silence much longer, there was too much at stake between them. Now that the funeral was almost over, he would no longer allow her to hide from him.

She could feel him staring at her, ravaging her heart, leaving a trail of broken bones and bruises behind. If he had just left well enough alone, they wouldn't be here today, like this. If only he had gone back to New York. If only he hadn't decided now that she was what he wanted. If only he hadn't come that night to the opera, forcing her to confront her feelings. She didn't dare look at her own culpability, her own 'if only's', because to do so was to stare into an abyss. Like a lead weight, she was sinking in guilt, drowning under the possibilities of what might have been if she had only changed directions, chosen another path. Instead, Cedric had taken control, forcing an end result that she had never anticipated or prepared for.

She never should have gone to Chuck the night of Cedric's death. Temporarily mad, she had succumbed to temptation, giving in to her basest desires. She had to have been delirious to accept his ring, giving him the encouragement to believe that there could ever be anything but pain and loss between them. Yet at the same time, she couldn't resist; it was a moment she had dreamed of long ago when she lived in a fantasy world, a place where she and Chuck would get married and have their baby and live happily ever after at the Palace. Now all that remained of that dream was the grave of their son, Edward. Gripping the fragrant roses tightly in her hand, she didn't notice that the thorns had drawn blood as she stared at the small grave next to the one beside the coffin of her husband. She barely heard the droning of the minister as he intoned the last words, _ashes to ashes, dust to dust_. It wasn't until she heard her mother's whispers and felt Serena's hand on hers that she realized they were waiting for her. Tears falling steadily, she rose carefully and made her way first to Edward's grave. Pulling a rose from the bouquet she held, she bent down to lay it reverently on his grave. For the first time she felt a sense of peace as she stood before his gravesite. She never thought she would reach this point and it saddened her; she felt like her memories of her first child were slipping further away with every passing day.

His eyes missed nothing, not the bowing of her shoulders or the slight trembling of her hand as she placed a white rose on a small headstone. It was then he realized what he had been missing. The grave had to be their son's. He bowed his head as something foreign stung the corners of his eyes and he ached for the son that was only the shadow of a dream.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she stood before Cedric. Like the shutter of a camera, every minute of their life together flashed clearly before her eyes as if it all happened yesterday. Their first meeting at her fathers, his proposal in the vineyards, their impromptu wedding, the hours they had spent shopping for Edward's birth and finally the tears they had shed for his funeral. Those tears now belonged to Cedric. It had all come full circle. She stood before his grave, loving him still, even now. He had been her shelter in the storm and she would always cherish him for that. With a sob, she threw the remaining roses on his coffin as they lowered him into the cold ground.

Chuck's self-restraint almost broke as he watched her toss her bouquet over the open mound of earth and almost collapse into Serena's arms. With Serena supporting her, she slowly and painstakingly walked away from the gravesite in a burst of flashes as the paparazzi attempted to get their money shot of the grieving widow. He searched her face for any sign of what she was thinking and feeling, but she was hidden from the world behind a filmy black veil. All he could see was the sharp outline of her features and a hand that still wore Cedric's wedding ring.

* * *

Serena strode into the room, heaving the heavy, Tiffany blue, satin drapes open, letting the light in.

"Blair, you are not Scarlett O'Hara and this is not a movie," She said firmly. "I am not going to let you sit up here and cry all day."

Crossing the room, she drew open the remaining drapes, dismissing Blair's complaints. No longer would she allow her friend to retreat into her own darkness.

"This isn't healthy for you or the baby."

Blair looked up from where she was sprawled on the bed, her hand resting lightly on her black, silk-clad stomach. Her fingertips gently caressed the small belly that was just now beginning to protrude. "They checked yesterday, the baby is fine. The heart and lungs, everything is growing perfectly normally," she said, her voice quavering despite all of her efforts to keep it steady.

Serena slid up next to her on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. "This baby is going to be fine, Blair. Nothing is going to go wrong. You were in perfect health when you got pregnant, you're taking your prenatal vitamins and you're eating. This pregnancy is completely different then the last one. You need to think positively. You can't sit up here all day, crying your eyes out and obsessing about Cedric."

Blair looked at her crossly, "I am not up here throwing a self-pity party."

"No, you're wallowing in it." Serena said, sarcastically.

"I just need time to think," she sighed as she reluctantly sat up.

Serena reached out for her thin hand, clasping it in hers. "You have had a week to think. You can't stay in here forever. You need to take care of yourself; you have decisions to make, a staff that needs you and a wolf at the gate."

Blair merely glared at her, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry, the last part was a bit dramatic, wasn't it?" Serena chuckled. "There isn't a wolf per se but there might as well be. Chuck is practically storming the place and I don't know how much longer I can keep him away."

"He will have to wait," she retorted smoothly.

"Blair…You have to face him sooner or later. You can't avoid this. You are having his child."

"I can't see him, not now. Maybe tomorrow or the next day," she pleaded, a hint of panic in her voice.

"Why not today? The house is empty of guests, your mother has finally left; there is nothing that is keeping you from seeing him." Serena looked at her best friend sternly, "What aren't you telling me?"

"I slept with Chuck," she said softly, avoiding Serena's eye.

Serena giggled. "Well, duh…there is a baby…" Her voice trailed off as she took in Blair's demeanor. "Again? When?" She questioned, trying to hold back any hint of judgment

"The night Cedric died." Tears glistened on her pale cheeks, choking her voice. "I never meant too. I just couldn't think. All I knew was that I needed Chuck. I needed him to make me forget, and he did, for a while."

"Blair…"

She inhaled sharply, sliding out of the bed she walked over to the jewelry box on her vanity. "He was so un-Chuck like. He wanted a commitment, marriage, before he would sleep with me. He was like a virgin holding out for the wedding night."

"Chuck? Our Chuck?" Serena's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"He gave me a ring." Plucking the glittering three-carat diamond from her jewelry box, she handed it to Serena.

The blonde fingered the delicate platinum ring, holding it up to the sunlight only to be dazzled by the refracted light. "This is an engagement ring."

Blair nodded, her fingers unconsciously twisting and pulling at the antique wedding ring that surrounded her ring finger.

Serena stared at Blair in awe. "He wants to marry you,"

"Don't act so surprised," she said sarcastically. "I haven't aged that badly."

Serena shook her head emphatically. "No, it's not that. It's Chuck. I never thought I would see the day that Chuck would willingly want to settle down. If he ever got married, I always pictured it as a shotgun kind of affair."

"If he has his way it will be a shotgun wedding," Blair said darkly. "He would have married me that night if he had his way."

"He proposed the night Cedric died?" No wonder Blair was avoiding Chuck. Serena couldn't believe that Chuck would be so devoid of feeling as to propose marriage when Cedric had been dead for only hours. He always weighed every situation to his advantage, knowing exactly when to strike to win. For him to have made this type of misstep was disturbing; he had to have lost all sense when it came to Blair.

"He didn't know. That is, I didn't tell him…" Blair bit her lip, looking at Serena with a tinge of shame in her eyes.

"Let me get this straight. You went to see Chuck after you found out about Cedric, but you didn't tell him your husband was dead. Instead you let him propose and then you had sex?" Serena grimaced; as usual she was caught in the tangle that was Chuck and Blair. Try as she might, she had never been able to unravel their relationship and find out what it was that kept them coming back together for more, when all they seemed to be capable of was causing each other pain and suffering. Even as Blair's best friend and someone who had known Chuck since he was little, she always felt like she was on the outside looking in on something incomprehensible, indescribable.

"He didn't propose. He demanded. He refused to sleep with me unless I wore his ring," Blair said defensively.

It all made sense now, Chuck's desperate need to talk to Blair, her desire to avoid him at all costs.

Serena gave Blair her sternest glance, the one she reserved especially for Blair's mulish moods. "You are going to talk to Chuck today. That the two of you need to talk is the understatement of the century."

"But—"

Serena raised her hand to silence Blair. "I don't want to hear it. You're pregnant with his child, you took his engagement ring and you slept with him. Now I am not saying you have to marry him or even that you should. That is your choice and I won't interfere, but you two need to communicate."

Blair set her chin in a stubborn line, defiantly looked at Serena's.

"Either you go downstairs and talk to him this afternoon or I will send him up here to find you," She said grimly, hoping that Blair would give in. She really hated getting involved like this, but she didn't see any other way of getting Blair out of her unhealthy self imposed exile.

"Fine!" Blair stalked over to her closet, throwing open the doors.

"Three o'clock then?" Serena asked smugly, pleased she had won this round.

Blair shot her a look that would have chilled the devil himself.

* * *

The blinds were drawn to keep the sun at bay but bits of light filtered through, casting shadows on the dark green walls.

Blair sat upright in front of Cedric's cherry desk, her fingers rifling through the piles of book that covered the surface. A sad smile hovered over her lips as she recognized a book that she had seen him read numerous times over the years. He must have been reading it again before- but no, she wouldn't think of that.

She folded her legs, adjusting herself in the massive leather chair, smoothing her skirt over her legs. Nervously she touched her abdomen, reassuring herself, taking courage from the small life within.

It didn't take long before she could hear his confident stride and the sound of several thousand dollar Italian loafers sliding on the floor.

She rose gracefully as he he entered, waving her hand for him to seat himself on the chair to her right, reminding him of a child in pearls playing at the role of boss. He couldn't help thinking that if they were going to play games, he would rather they played doctor. He searched her face for clues on how to proceed. He knew she was fragile right now, near her breaking point; otherwise she wouldn't have visited him that night. While they had gotten closer, worked through some of their issues, he wasn't naive enough to believe that she thought she had come to his hotel for anything other than sex. But he knew Blair and what she would never admit; she would never have come to him if he wasn't already in her heart. Somehow he had gotten in there and he was determined to claw his way further in with every day, until he was in every breath she took.

"Chuck," she said coldly. From the tensing of her jaw and the rigidity of her body language it was clear she intended to keep him at a distance.

He stretched out his legs, somehow managing to lounge in the small office chair. Her eyes followed the movement of his long lean body, desire flooding her, even as guilty pangs shot through her heart at how easily she could betray her husband's memory.

She reached into her pocket and laid his ring gently on the desk, her index finger lingering over the smooth edge of the stone.

"You're wearing his ring," he said smoothly, his expression blank.

"Chuck, I can't marry you. I don't know what I was thinking the night Cedric died, but I shouldn't have lead you on that way."

"You didn't lead me on. You came to me because, even if you won't admit it, you still love me. "

She shook her head violently. "No," she said emphatically.

"Think about it, Blair. Who did you come too when your world feel apart? You didn't call your mother, or even Serena. You came to me and fucked me, like your world was ending. As an expert at fucking, of all types, I would venture to say that we came pretty close to making love that night and I abhor that phrase."

"It was just sex, Chuck." She blinked, feeling lightheaded as the room seemed to close in on her.

"It was more then that and you know it."

Head pounding, her hands flew up to massage her temples. "I can't deal with this right now. It has only been a little over a week since my husband… passed away," her voice trembled, sounding thin and hollow to Chuck's ears.

"I know. I'm sorry, Blair. I know you cared for him."

"I loved him," she said, lifting her chin stubbornly.

He eyed her, sharp and assessing. "Maybe, but you love me too." Noticing every detail, reading her like no other could, he knew she needed to unload the burden she carried.

"What happened that night? Why did he do it?" He asked gently, knowing he was overstepping his bounds.

She didn't want to talk about it, hadn't talked about it to anybody. The guilt and pain that tore at her was the price she willingly paid, it was her cross to bear for the decisions she had made that led to this. She didn't want to tell him, but the gentle tone and soft look in Chuck's eyes were her undoing.

"He knew I was staying in London that night. He didn't want me to have to find him like that so he waited for me to leave." She clenched her jaw to still the sob in her throat.

"He left a note. He said that none of it was my fault. That he couldn't stand to not be in control of his own death." She closed her eyes briefly, remembering the policeman at the door of their London townhouse, the devastation as they delivered the news. It didn't matter what Cedric had written, she knew it was her actions, her desire to have a child and the hold that Chuck had over heart that had contributed to his decision.

"It wasn't your fault," he said quietly.

"I think you should go now. I'm really tired." Her voice was shakier than she would have liked.

"Not yet. Serena said you saw the obstetrician this week. I want to know what the doctor had to say. How is the baby?" he asked, full of concern.

"The baby is developing perfectly normal, everything right on schedule," she said, clearly surprised that he had asked.

"Good. And your health? Are there any problems?"

"The doctor was concerned about my stress levels." She gave him a dark look before continuing, "Other than telling me to gets lots of rest and to try and eat more, everything is good. "

For the first time since he had arrived he relaxed, the tension he had carried for over a week falling away from him in waves. He didn't bother to hide the look of love and adoration that crossed his face when he caught her eye.

She stared at him, disconcerted and confused, conflicting emotions swirling in her heart. Skimming through a haze of feelings and desires, she surprised herself.

"I am having another ultrasound next week. Maybe you would like to come?" she asked insecure and unsure.

An expression of pure elation showed in his eyes and he smiled a rare smile of genuine happiness. "There is nothing I would rather do. Thank you, Blair."

She shrugged as if it meant nothing, even though it meant everything to them.

"If you don't mind, I have a lot that needs to be done today." She rose, effectively ending their meeting.

He gave in. He wanted so much more from her, but this was a step forward he had never calculated. He had gotten further than he had ever dreamed possible.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call or text me at any time day or night. I am always here for you, for whatever…you might need," he hinted, unable to depart without at least one parting leer.

She gave him a withering look, not bothering to respond.

Rising fluidly from his chair, he held her gaze for a moment, his eyes saying what he could not, before he turned and strode towards the door.

Blair's heart ached in her chest as she watched him walk away. Clearing her throat she pretended to be unaffected as she called out, "Wait, you forgot your ring."

He turned around, smiling a slow secret smile. "Keep it, you will need it."

* * *

A/N: Thanks to all of my reviewers: Chris2035, Hngauthier, poochbello, , Arazadia, GreekLia, 24hrscout, SnowedUnderNJ, Stella296, laurienlaurie, EnglandOCfan, Ella, XanaLinks, annablake, Pao, puresimplicity-xo, Kensley-Jackson, Venetia Carianna, 89, :D, uncorazonquebrado, Abelard, pam halliwell and flipped.

Special thanks goes to my very talented and long suffering beta Madeleinex.

I apologize for the lack of B/C in this chapter, but I promise there is more to come. :D


	12. Chapter 12

Blair shivered as the doctor ran the wand of the ultrasound machine over the small swell of her belly. With bated breath, her finger nails digging into the padded leather examination table, she waited anxiously. Looking up at the small television screen mounted on the wall she thought she could see movement and fluttering, but it was so blurry she was fearful that it was only her imagination. Blinking rapidly she was afraid she was about to start hyperventilating if the doctor didn't say something soon.

In a heartbeat Chuck's hand was on hers, gently unclenching each fingernail from its grip on the leather cushion and replacing it with his fingers. Warmth flowed through Blair as his hand squeezed hers, his thumb gently circling her palm as if by his touch he could ease her nervousness and trepidation. To her surprise her agitation lessened with each caress and every stroke until once more she was able to take long and deep breaths.

She never thought that they would be here like this. Even though part of her had hoped he would show today at her appointment, she had never allowed herself to even contemplate the reality of him being there. When he had entered the small exam room at the clinic it had taken every fiber in her body to suppress the surge of emotion that flooded her chest. She wasn't sure if it was the hormones from the pregnancy or her own need of him, but the thought of ever letting go of his hand caused a stabbing pain so sharp in her breast it was agonizing. To her surprise, instead of taking over her appointment and forcing himself on her and the doctor Chuck had made his presence known calmly, giving her the space she needed.

"Perfectly healthy and measuring just where the little one is supposed to," the doctor said kindly. Blair, her insides wound as tightly as a spring, relaxed for the first time in days.

"Thank you, Doctor Lund," Blair smiled, her face radiating happiness.

Doctor Lund smiled back warmly, wishing that all of his appointments would have such happy results and such lovely mothers. With nimble fingers the doctor found just the exact spot to see the best results. "Look; there is the head and there is the spine and you can see the outline of ten finger and toes," he said, pointing with his other hand at the screen above them.

The slight release of tension in Chucks' jaw was the only sign of how hard he had prepared himself to be immune to emotion, to control and suppress it until the time he could be alone to either mourn or rejoice at the well being of his child. With slow understanding he realized nothing could have prepared him for the elation he felt seeing his child for the first time. No matter how hard he fought to remain impassive it was impossible not to glory in the splendor that was a healthy child. Having spent the last week reading every book his assistant could find on pregnancy, he had known that this early the baby would be hard to see on the screen. That the picture would be grainy and blurry and that depending on how the baby was laying there might be very little to see, but he swore he could see everything. Most important of all he could see the heart of his child fluttering with the grace of butterfly wings.

"Blair, that is our baby." Chuck's voice was filled with awe as he stared t the image on the screen.

"I know," she replied with reverence, her fingers twining unconsciously with his until their hands were one.

Pulling a thick, cottony white towel from the drawer of the examining table Doctor Lund gently wiped away the ultrasound gel that covered Blair's stomach. To say that he was shocked by Mr. Bass's comment was an understatement. He had treated Lady Errol for years, had delivered her first child and had later on been instrumental in the fertility treatments that had failed so miserably. He had been surprised when she had returned to his care pregnant after he had assumed that a child was a lost cause for the Errol's. Ever a professional he had held his tongue even as he had wondered what had caused this miracle. Now he finally knew. His appraising glance roamed over Mr. Bass, or at least the man who had been introduced as Mr. Bass. If nothing else the man certainly knew his clothes. A fairly wealthy man himself, Dr. Lund could recognize a priceless Armani custom suit when he saw one. Even the man's shoes alone were worth a small fortune. Money and appearances aside, the most important thing he noticed was the way the man looked at Lady Errol. It was is if she was the air he breathed. The doctor couldn't have been happier at this turn of events, she would need that now with her husband gone.

"Would you like to know the sex?" he asked the expectant parents, carefully keeping all of his thoughts hidden.

"You can tell this early?" Chuck asked, his voice raspy with excitement and surprise. Even though he had read those pregnancy and child development books cover to cover and had known this was the case - he was still thunderstruck by the idea.

"When the baby is laying facing us and it is this obvious then, yes," Dr. Lund chuckled, looking and feeling in that moment much like Santa Claus

Scrunching up her eyes Blair stared hard at the small figure wriggling all over the screen. "I can't see anything where there should be something."

"That is the way it is. To an untrained eye it is easy to miss, but when you have been doing this for as many years as I have it is easy to tell."

Blair turned her head to look at Chuck. "Do you want to know?" She questioned softly, afraid if she made the decision it would all be snatched away from her like some terrible nightmare.

"I do," Chuck hesitated, "That is, if it is okay with you."

Blair simply nodded. This moment, while not what she had originally dreamed for her and Cedric, was eerily similar to the one she had imagined for her and Chuck years ago. It was a dream fulfilled, only eight years too late.

"Shall we find out then, Lady Errol?" The doctor asked, good humor twinkling in his eyes.

"Please," she whispered, fear and trepidation in her voice. Her stomach clenched tightly in a crazy mixture of hope and apprehension.

"I believe trains and cars are in your future. If you look closely there," Doctor Lund pointed with one finger towards a tiny blurry movement, "you will see a snail like appendage. That, my dear, is the little bloke's penis."

Chuck blinked slowly as he processed the news. He was to have a son. They were having a son. He gloried in this brief, shared moment between them, and carefully memorized exactly what he was feeling, how her hand felt in his, so he would remember it always.

Tears leaked from the corners of Blair's eyes and she squeezed Chuck's hand tightly, never wanting to let go and lose this moment. She didn't think she had ever been so blissfully and happily alive.

"We are having a boy," Chuck said reverently, for the first time feeling as if he was blessed and that there truly was a God. What he had lost was being returned to him. Unlike most of his life this time he was being given a second chance.

For Blair, the rest of the appointment passed in a blur. Vaguely she remembered promising to take her pre-natal vitamins, making assurances that she was eating healthily and getting all her fruits, vegetables and proteins. Before she knew it she was at the door of the clinic and facing a nearly empty parking lot.

"Where is your ride?" Chuck asked solicitously, all his usual cunning and smugness mysteriously erased from his voice.

Blair peered into the parking lot, searching for her town car. "He was supposed to wait." Flustered she pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed her driver only to find herself sent right to voice mail. "There must have been an emergency somewhere. I can't imagine any other reason why he wouldn't be here." Her brow furrowed in worry as she contemplated the near empty lot, the cold blustery weather and the lack of taxis.

"Can I offer you a ride home? My limo is warm and right here waiting ever so patiently," Chuck offered politely, through hooded eyes that glinted with desire and want.

"I think not. I have no illusions as to what a limo ride with Chuck Bass entails, and I have no desire to be added twice to the list of women who have been fucked in your limo. Once was more than enough," Blair replied bitterly, wrapping her cashmere scarf tighter around her neck to ward off the chilling damp of the rain.

"You seem to have forgotten. I told you once that the limo is sacred and I have never broken that vow," Chuck said solemnly.

Blair stared at him in disbelief. She had spent years under the assumption that he had done everything in his power to erase any and all memories of that night in the limousine. For her that night, that place, had been magical and only in the deepest recesses of her heart would she ever admit to the jealously she fought every time he was photographed with some new starlet, model or socialite emerging from a limousine. To hear that he felt the same - and had carried this small piece of her and that night with him always, no matter whom he had been sleeping with - moved her.

"It's raining, Blair. Can't you for once let go of the past and let me give the mother of my child a safe and dry ride home? I will try to refrain from molesting you, but I can't promise anything." Chuck smirked at her, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Especially if you find yourself unable to keep your hands off me."

"When hell freezes over, Chuck," Blair countered, rolling her eyes.

Chuck glanced at the sky, and holding a finger up he caught a slushy raindrop just a slight metamorphosis away from a snowflake. "With weather like this I wouldn't be surprised if you got your wish. I must admit; I am quite looking forward to having your hands on me again. If our last interlude is any indication, your blood still runs as hot for me now as it did when you were seventeen."

Chuck laughed as she blushed, his statement proved true by the color that crept across her pale ivory cheeks and neck. As snow and icy rain began to sparkle in Blair's hair like diamonds she realized she had lost. There was no way she was going to be left like a transient on the sidewalk while Chuck got driven away in his nice, warm limo. Shivering she allowed Chuck to open the limo door for her and like a queen she slid into the warm, buttery leather seat. "No touching Bass, or I swear you will find it hard to walk for days."

"Like I said; I can't promise anything, but it looks like you are out of options so you might just have to tolerate a wandering hand or two," he chuckled, grinning at her wickedly.

Sliding in beside her he knocked on the partition and let the driver know the change of destination. Within minutes they were on their way, the smooth purr of the limo the only sound. Looking deep into Chuck's eyes, Blair found herself losing her way. The careful façade and control that had been eroding all day finally fell away like shards of glass beneath Chuck's penetrating gaze. For once no shadows crossed her heart. She was having a healthy beautiful boy and as much as she loathed admitting it being with Chuck felt right, like she was finally home. She hadn't known such happiness in years. She felt light and free, like she was wrapped in a silken cocoon of euphoria.

Chuck - ever sensitive to the slightest change of her mood - leaned forward and bent his head to kiss her. Although he hadn't necessarily planned on seduction, something had changed in Blair. The mask of composure and dignity she normally wore had softened, giving him a glimpse of what truly lay in heart. What he saw made his own heart flutter and his blood waltz in his veins. He pulled her tightly against him and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her breast flush to his chest. Every muscle and every fiber of his being snapped to attention at feeling her light body fit so perfectly against his.

Parting her lips with surprise, Blair gasped as Chuck claimed her mouth, taking advantage of her shock. Electricity rushed through her veins and pounded in her ears at once more being held so close to him. Remaining still in his arms, her body was passive even as she accepted his embrace. She battled not to respond, to give him the satisfaction of knowing the hold he had over her. She knew she was fighting a losing battle, but still she resisted.

Chuck plundered her mouth with his tongue, thrusting and sensuously tasting. He waged war against her, forcing his way into her physically and mentally until she was forced to recognize him. He sought to show her that her desire for him would trump all obstacles, yet even as he did he was aware it wasn't what he wanted. He was at odds with himself. His primal instinct to claim her and make her his was at war with his desire to have her come willingly without scheming and seduction. He wanted them to be equals. He didn't want to rule her - he wanted her to be a queen, in her own right, at his side. Instantly his kiss changed from one of possessiveness to one of enticement. With his lips and tongue he negotiated and tempted her.

Blair's resistance faltered at his gentle approach. Instead of taking, for once he was giving. In his kiss she could feel him offering his heart to her. For a second she stood at the precipice and then in a heartbeat she gave in. Angling her lush lips against his, Blair savored the taste of him, the heaven she found only in his arms. She sank deeper and further into his embrace until his arms relaxed and she was now holding him. Her mouth fused tighter to his, her fingers pulling at his hair, giving him the urging he needed to lose himself in her.

Momentarily shocked by her capitulation Chuck froze. His strategy now lost evaporated into thin air. He couldn't believe she was kissing him back, opening herself up to him, letting him slip behind her walls. That was all the urging he needed to lose himself in her.

With a small gasp Blair broke the kiss. Tilting her head she stared intently into his face as if she was reading his heart. His hand came up to brush the side of her face, his fingers curving over her the plane of her cheeks, his thumb caressing the corner of her mouth.

"Chuck—," she began only to be interrupted.

"I'm not giving up and I'm not going away." Chuck stared at Blair intently, his eyes solemn and determined.

"I know," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Chuck blinked slowly at her in surprise. He hadn't been expecting her to give in so easily. "Then you will marry me?" he asked, triumph and eagerness etched in his face.

Blair drew a deep steadying breath, resigning herself to a truth she only just now could accept. "That depends on you."

Furrowing his brow Chuck regarded her quizzically. "On me?" He said with a strangled laugh. "If any of what lay between us were dependent on me we would already be married and fucking our way through a European honeymoon."

His voice lowered, rich and velvet it called to her, making her toes curl as naked and wicked images of the two of them together danced in her head. Blair's eyes shuttered closed before his heated ones in an attempt to fight his hold on her. If she didn't look at him, perhaps it would give her the strength she needed to stay objective. Her attempt was pointless as Chuck pulled her closer to him, his presence dizzyingly overwhelming both physically and mentally.

"If it truly was dependent on me it would be my tongue, lips and mouth touching you here, sucking, biting, kissing in just the right way…" His voice trailed off as ever so gently his finger reached out to lightly trace the blue vein in her creamy skin that ran along the delicate column of her neck. "…To make you scream my name."

With her senses overwhelmed by the images and memories his words brought forth it had never been clearer to Blair that letting him into her life, she was playing the ultimate game, a delicate balancing act between being consumed by Chuck and retaining that small part of her life that was her own, the life that she had made with Cedric. She had to find a way to make it work because she knew Chuck was obsessed with her, that he loved her and now with the baby he would never let her go. What was even worse was she knew if he ever did let her go the fragile hold she held on her heart would shatter and she would be forever broken.

Shivering under his touch and horrified by the wave of electric heat that was already coursing though her body, she drew away from him. She would not allow him to cloud her mind, not now when there was so much at stake.

Exhaling heavily, her stomach in knots, Blair began her proposal. "I realize that not recognizing what exists between us would be foolish."

Chuck grinned widely, satisfaction sparkling in his eyes. Sliding closer to her on the seat his thigh pressed against hers.

"I am willing to marry you under certain conditions," Blair said, hiding her nervousness behind a fragile and thin veneer. To win she would need to cede something and she was willing to give everything to win.

"Conditions?" Chuck repeated suspiciously, his mind already calculating how best he could use her conditions to his advantage.

Blair licked her lips slowly, teasingly leaning towards him until her lips were a hovering flame inches from his ear. "I will be your dutiful wife, yours to fuck as you please… if you grant me one desire." Trailing kisses down his neck she tantalized him with her tongue and Chuck shuddered with pleasure. "Blair," he moaned through his teeth. "Tell me what you want and I swear it is yours, just marry me today, this hour."

Settling herself in his lap, Blair turned to face him, and threw her leg over him so that she was straddling him. Rubbing against him, his hardness caressing her softness.

"Our son. I want him to bear Cedric's name," she whispered in his ear, writhing against him sinuously.

Chuck exhaled sharply. "Fine, name him Cedric. What do I care as long as he is a Bass and we are married." His mouth swooped in to place delicate tender kisses along his most favorite parts of her neck.

Blair froze in his arms. "No, Chuck. You misunderstand. I want him to be an Errol."

"No," Chuck said adamantly, stilling his kisses. "He is my son."

"There is more at stake here than your pride," Blair said with irritation. "He can be your son, but let him be an Errol, at least in name only. We owe it to Cedric," she cajoled, as desperation settled into the pit of her stomach.

"No, you may owe it to him, but I owe him nothing," he said dismissively.

"If you love me, you owe him everything!" Blair challenged. "Without him the Blair you love - the one you want to marry - wouldn't exist. Without him there would be no baby now. You would still be sleeping with your whores pretending I don't exist. We would not be here if not for Cedric."

Chuck sighed heavily, "I know, but you are asking something of me that I am not sure I can give. There is nothing I wouldn't give you, nothing that I wouldn't do to make you my wife, except this."

"Please, Chuck," she begged, tears glistening in her eyes. "Don't make me fight you on this. I want to be with you. I want to be yours, but this is the only way I can."

"Blair…" Chuck wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms. Kiss her tears away and promise her what ever it took to bring back that beautiful teasing smile of hers. Yet his heart balked at what she was asking of him. It was a sacrifice of the highest order and he didn't think he was capable of such nobility. No doubt her precious Cedric would have jumped at the chance to martyr himself to her crusade, but he was Chuck Bass.

Blair watched the play of emotions that ran across his face intently. She peered into his heart, into his very soul as if she knew what he was thinking. "I am not unaware of the depth of what I am asking. I know that my asking you this is tearing you apart, but I can't give myself to you without this. After everything he has done for me, I have no other choice. You will be this child's father in every way that counts. He will only ever know you as his father. What does it matter whether his last name is Errol? There will be other children. I can promise you that."

"I can't, Blair," he said helplessly.

Pain wound its way around her throat, tightening and constricting. "Don't force me to make a choice," she said, gazing at him with despair.

"There is no choice. The child is mine. You have admitted as much," he said flatly. Considering her carefully he could see the devastating effect of his words on her. Softening his voice he changed tactics, speaking with his heart and hoping she could hear his plea. "I know what you feel for me is love even if you haven't said so. We are meant to be and with this child we can be whole. It is a fresh start. A new Chuck and Blair."

Tears coursed down Blair's cheeks, her hands clumsily wiping them away. "I can't deny I want that - a fresh start - but it is too late. I have obligations I can't walk away from. Debts that are owed. Cedric gave up everything for me, the least I can do is give him this."

"I am not asking you to forget Cedric or cut him out of your life," Chuck countered, his tone soothing as if he was speaking to a child. "Just give me what is rightfully mine. Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me. All of this can be figured out later."

Blair shook her head sadly, her eyes large and tragic in her pale face. "Do you think I am a fool? As soon as I say, "I do" Cedric's legacy will have died. Any hope for my wishes gone. Don't think I don't know how you work."

"Can you honestly expect anything less from me?" His lips twisted into a cynical smile.

"No…" she answered simply, understanding everything. "However I wished, had _hoped,_ for something different."

"What happens now?" he asked, his eyes dark and hooded like a hawk's.

"I give you time to reconsider. For the first time I hold all the cards. You can marry me on my terms or we part." She clenched her jaw to still the emotions threatening to burst out of her throat.

"What about my son?"

"Who is to say he is yours?" She looked at him through sad eyes, pale and drawn. "The maternity is guaranteed and there is no question about the paternity in the eyes of the public."

"For now," he replied softly, dangerously. His voice sent shivers down Blair spine. It was no idle threat and she knew it.

"What can you do? Cedric and I have been happily married for seven years. You can shout my infidelity from the rooftops, but all that will accomplish is a case of nasty gossip that your son will have to live with forever. Do you really want to do that to him?" she asked, struggling to maintain a conciliatory tone.

"I can force a paternity test," he threatened.

Blair laughed grimly, a sound filled with painful bitterness. "I would like to see you try. There is no judge in the country that would agree to a court order forcing a young widow to prove that an acquaintance is the father of her unborn child. Do you have any idea of the precedent this would create in the legal system?"

Chuck's eyes darkened with emotion, becoming hard as ice. "Laws are made to be broken. It would not be the first time I have circumvented the law to get what I desired."

"Don't do this, Chuck. We need to do what is best for our child and this is not it. Don't let your pride get in the way of the family we could have. " Blair circled her arms behind him, her breasts pressed into his chest. Tilting her head, she leaned into his neck, her breath feathering against his skin. His body reacted immediately, hardening. "Don't think about the name. Think of your son. Think of how you can be the father Bart never was. Think of our marriage, the pleasure that only we can give each other. We can be happy. I can make you happy." Blair murmured, seductively.

"So you would whore yourself out to make our son an Earl," he said cruelly.

Blair kissed his neck right at his pulse point, her teeth lightly scraped the surface of his skin, and his breath caught in his throat as he shuddered with desire. "Only for you," she whispered in his ear.

"Then give me a taste of what you would offer," Chuck demanded, flipping her on her back. His hands roughly - almost violently - pinned her wrists over her head as she squirmed underneath him. His other hand tore at the buttons of her blouse and when they didn't immediately give way he ripped the delicate fabric; revealing the tempting delights they hid. He took a moment to savor her helplessness, the harsh uneven sound of her breathing and her dilated eyes. His greedy gaze roved over her body, lingering over her emerald satin bra clad breasts, down her torso to the swell of her stomach as his other hand slid up her skirt to caress her thigh.

Twisting against him and arching her body Blair attempted to free herself of his grip only to still when his mouth claimed hers in a fiery kiss. Parting her lips, her mouth met his and allowed him entrance, her tongue dueling with his for dominance. A moan escaped from her lips as his kiss became more aggressive, penetrating. When he finally broke free, his lips slid to the hollow beneath her ear and she urged him on with a small gasp.

Not content, Chuck's lips seared a path down her neck with savage intensity as she undulated against him, her hips tilting towards his hand. His own body was hard and tight with arousal as he fought a losing battle within himself to dominate and control her.

Still keeping her wrists tightly pinioned, Chuck palmed her bra with his other hand. Then his mouth pressed hotly to the upper swell of her breasts and Blair lost all touch with the world as he aroused her further and passion sharp and sweet sliced through her. Yanking her skirt up around her waist Chuck clutched the edge of her lace panties and possessively with one smooth stroke he ripped them off, tossing them into the corner of the limo. His hard thigh pressed hers wide, anchoring them, leaving her open and vulnerable. His hand cupped her sex, his fingers teasing her curls that were already slick with desire. Blair's chest rose and fell with her labored breathing as the tip of his finger brushed over her most sensitive place. Shifting, Blair arched to meet him, yielding to the burning sweetness that threatened to consume her.

Chuck needed no encouragement; he was already lost to passion, swept away by its thrall. He had to have her, had to be inside her, had to make her his and prove once and for all that there was no escape, no beginning and no end between them. They were forever caught in a web of their own making, one of control, passion and desire.

He entered her with a sharp flex of his hips and with his hand between their bodies he stroked her while he pressed forward in slow nudges. Her body tensed as she felt the hardness of him easing intimately inside of her. Each plunge of his shaft drew a moan from her throat, and she bit her lip to hold in the sounds. Suddenly he was all the way inside her, gliding full and deep burying every inch of his sex. She writhed upward, her hips pushing into his long pleasuring thrusts. Her inner muscles throbbed violently and her breath grew ragged and shallow. Chuck sighed, he had never known such ecstasy, such exquisite tightness. He continued to thrust fiercely, again and again, listening to her cries, her moans, and finally her pleas. Only when she started pleading did he finally give in. Taking her mouth in a savage kiss, he found her sweet spot with his fingers and in a burst of brilliant colors Blair reached the blinding pinnacle of ultimate release. Gasping her name, his blood thundering in his ears, Chuck thrust once more, filling her, filling him and for a brief moment giving them a time and place where all that existed was raw passion and pleasure.

Time stood still, nothing existed for Blair but Chuck. For the first time in months she was satiated, at peace. Her ever calculating, ever scheming mind ceased turning and was at rest. Drawing away from Blair, Chuck released her wrists from his grip. He watched her, his head reeling with emotion. He drank in the sight of her, her eyelids fluttering, then rising. He couldn't look away, his eyes lingered over her lips - swollen from their passionate kisses - then lowered further over the expanse of her creamy skin, now flushed and bearing the telltale signs of his possession. Smoothing her skirt down he pulled her into a sitting position and drew the shreds of her blouse over her breasts, enveloping her in an embrace.

"What happens now," Blair asked in a small, tired voice, tucking herself further into his arms until he was cradling her like a small child.

"We will be married." Chuck stated, his voice low and gravelly and full of desire.

"I can't," she said brokenly. "You can't just fuck me and expect it to solve everything.

"I know," his hands ran soothingly up and down her arms, comforting her as tears started to gather once more in her eyes.

"What of our son?" Blair asked, pulling away from him as the limousine came to a standstill in front of her home.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. To his surprise he found that he spoke the truth. Stripped of all plans, schemes and manipulation and baring his soul he was faced with one constant; he loved Blair. But did he love her enough? Could he love her enough, to give her what she needed, Cedrics's name for their son in atonement?

"Cedric will always be a part of me, part of our son, no matter how much you may deny it," she said, grief and despair tearing at her heart like a wild animal.

Chuck glanced out the window at the home Blair had shared with Cedric. In his jealous mind he could picture Blair and her late husband together year after year, season after season, mourning the loss of the son he hadn't known existed until recently. He could see the way the man had looked at Blair with worshipful eyes, the way he had catered to her every need, her every whim, even when it led to her adultery with him. And for a moment he swore he could see the ghost of Cedric sitting on the front step of the townhouse waiting for them. Chuck pulled Blair to him, running his fingers through her hair, combing her curls with his fingers and comforting her with his touch. Leaning in he placed a kiss on her smooth forehead. "I know," he sighed, his voice filled with resignation.

As the chauffer opened the door of the limousine, Blair turned to Chuck and her lips found his. Kissing him she poured everything she felt into him, all the wanting, pain and suffering of eight long years spent apart. She gave him a piece of her heart, the piece of her soul that she hadn't know she had held in wait for him all these years. This small part of her cold and frozen that, in his embrace, with his honest declaration had come alive, melting on his lips like a sliver of ice.

"I love you," she murmured, against his lips, so softly Chuck was afraid that if he blinked he would wake up and find he had dreamed the whole thing.

"Give me time…" Chuck whispered hoarsely, "and you will find there is nothing I won't do for you."

Blair nodded, smiling sadly, choking back a sob as tears painted her face. Clutching the edges of her coat over the remains of her blouse she stepped out of the limousine.

"I'll be waiting," she breathed, her heart in her throat as she fought the impulse to cling to him and never let go. It took all over her resolve not to give in and damn her honor forever.

Chuck stared with longing, sharp and cutting, as she walked towards the door. Obsessively he counted every step that took her further and further away from him until his heart was burning in his chest. He had one last card to play and if that failed he was afraid she wouldn't have to wait long.

* * *

I apologize for the long delay in updates. I truly hope it was worth the wait. Thanks so much to all those who PM'd me your thoughts and feelings on the last chapter. I also want to let those of you who have alerted my other story, High Society, know that I foolishly deleted it and later reposted it. If you still want to receive updates for this you will need to alert the reposted version.

Much love to my reviewers: co, Laura, Cascia, Deziray, chris, ggobzezzed, cynicalshadows, TeamSophia, Krazy4Spike, nicodemusfleur, Salma, TriGemini, BrittyKay247, Venetia Carianna, samuraigurl1213, 89, Neverevered, JYLlian, 24hrscout, Pao, poochbello, aurienlaurie, annablake, Laura, Lee Rion, Chris2035, puresimplicity-xo, GreekLia, :D, Madeleinex, Kensley-Jackson, Hngauthier, abelard.

Eternal gratitude to Camilla for her amazing beta skills.


	13. Chapter 13

Serena sat across from Chuck, her fingers nervously playing with and rearranging the heavy silverware on the starched white linen tablecloth. To say that his phone call demanding that she join him immediately in London surprised her was an understatement. While they had reached an uneasy truce since Blair's husband's death, things between them were not quite warm and friendly. While she had managed to keep him updated on Blair's condition during those dark days before and after the funeral, her contact with him had ceased when she returned to New York. Considering the circumstances of their last meeting months ago, she never would have dreamed that now she would be sitting across from her stepbrother, breaking bread. She hadn't wanted to come, but Chuck had actually begged, something that she had never dreamed was possible. Of course it had helped that he set aside his private jet to take her at her convenience and then there were the presents. Ever since his request there had been a steady supply of haute couture clothing arriving daily from every major fashion house in Europe. Appearing at her door were outfits that were so new they hadn't even been seen on the runway yet. Chuck wanted something from her – something big enough that he was attempting to buy her favor, and this worried her. There was only one thing she had that he could possible want and that was information on Blair. The one thing she wasn't sure she could give him.

Chuck leaned back in the leather padded dining room chair lazily as if he hadn't just spent a small fortune to get his stepsister in the same room as himself. He studied her, watching her twitch under his gaze, pleased he could still get under her skin.

The heavy silence, thick and oppressive like a velvet curtain, began to bear down on Serena until she had no choice but to break it. "What do you want, Chuck?" She snapped.

Chuck raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise at her bluntness. "Why, to see my lovely sister, of course," he said smoothly.

"Now…you want to see me now?" Serena asked, raising an eyebrow at him incredulously. "Our families have been connected for years, your best friend is my fiancé, and never once have you expressed any interest in seeing me. Don't take me for a fool."

"That is one thing I have never taken you for," he said sharply. "If anything I am quite impressed at your cleverness. Very few people can actually keep a secret, let alone live a charade year after year."

Serena swallowed hard; so this what he wanted from her, a reckoning. She would have been foolish not to realize that this day would come, that they would be forced to speak of the past. She had just hoped that Chuck would be so lost in Blair and the baby that he would let it go, let it stay buried in the past. Then again, Chuck was a Bass and they never let anything go.

"It wasn't like I set out to deceive you." Serena looked up at Chuck with big eyes that pleaded for understanding. "I only wanted what was best for Blair."

"Did you ever think that maybe I was what was best for Blair?" Chuck asked coldly.

Shaking her head, Serena looked at him sadly. "At that time, no. I didn't think you were capable of thinking about anything but yourself."

"Shouldn't I have at least been given a chance? Maybe I would have surprised all of you. Made an honest woman of her," he said mockingly.

"I am sorry, Chuck," Serena apologized, in a small voice. "Maybe what we did was wrong, but it seemed like the best decision at the time. You have to remember we were kids making a very adult decision. Blair was a scared pregnant teenager and you were on a drug and alcohol bender. What were we supposed to do?"

"Tell me the truth," Chuck demanded, his voice raw and bitter.

Serena stiffened as though Chuck had hit her, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Maybe you don't remember, but you did everything in your power to break her. She threw herself at you, declared her love for you and you threw it back at her like she was offering you garbage."

"I don't care," Chuck flung back at her angrily. "You can try and justify it all you like, but what you did was wrong. I deserved to know the truth."

"Would you have really wanted to know? Would it have changed anything…the drinking, the drugs the women. Would you have walked away from it all to give Blair what she needed?" Serena asked harshly.

Chuck glared at her with burning reproachful eyes. "I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to be there and you took it all away. Your sin of omission took away not only Blair, but also my son. If I had known about the baby it would have changed everything. I already loved Blair, if I hadn't I wouldn't have worked so hard to push her away. Knowing she was carrying my child would have been the sign I needed to know that I deserved her." Chuck's voice lowered until it was nothing but a hoarse whisper, "That I was worthy."

Serena sighed heavily. Her anger, once burning bright, now was ash in her mouth. "I'm sorry. In hindsight and with several years between then and now, I can see that maybe we didn't make the best decision." Serena paused, tears beginning to glint in the corners of her eyes. "Blair was so fragile. I was afraid one more insult from you, one more cutting remark and she would shatter and I wouldn't be able to put her back together again. When her father offered for her to join him in France, it seemed the perfect opportunity. She never intended to leave forever. It was just supposed to be a break, some time to think things over. We intended to tell you…eventually."

"Then she met Cedric." Chuck said with a cold edge of irony in his voice.

Serena nodded, unhappily. "You know Blair. When he fell in love with her and offered to raise your child as his, it was like a fairytale come true. If she couldn't have the dream she wanted with you, she would settle for being the wife of an Earl. We should have told you, but by then it was too late," Serena said miserably. Looking up she caught and held Chuck's gaze defiantly, challenging him. "You can't fault her for wanting a new life, one where she and her child would be loved and cherished versus a life with a drunken, drugged out womanizer who seemed to hate her."

Chuck's eyes glittered dangerously, his lips curling into a dark smile. "You kept me from a son that I never got to know existed, whose death I never got to mourn, and because of that, you owe me."

Fear wound its way around Serena's heart like a boa constrictor squeezing its prey. This is what she was afraid of, what she had known would happen the second she accepted this meeting with him. He wanted something from her and she was terrified of what it could be. Because after all he was right, she owed him.

"What do you want, Chuck?" She asked with resignation.

"Nothing much, a word, perhaps two, dropped ever so conveniently in Blair's ear," Chuck said lightly, almost evasively as if he were nervous.

Serena blinked at him several times, before laughing out loud. "What is this, high school? Blair already knows you like her. Go talk to her yourself." Serena rose up from the table only to be stopped by Chuck's warm and much larger hand tugging on hers, pulling her back.

"Do you really think I would send for you all the way from New York if the situation wasn't dire? This isn't just about me and what I want anymore."

"Chuck, it is always about you and what you want," Serena exhaled, suddenly very tired.

Chuck stopped to ponder the question, his lips curling into smirk. "Maybe it is, but this time I'm also thinking about what is best for Blair."

Serena rubbed her forehead roughly, a preventive measure against the headache already beginning to throb there. "I think you should talk to Blair about what is best for Blair."

"Believe me, I have tried. Now it is your turn," replied Chuck obstinately.

"I can't help you. Whatever this is about, it is between you and Blair and I am not getting involved."

A muscle flicked angrily in Chuck's jaw. "Yet you were perfectly willing to get involved when it came to keeping my son away from me. "

"Once again Chuck, I did not do that on purpose. Ultimately that was Blair's choice, her decision," Serena said neutrally.

"So you are willing to let her repeat history, keep my son from me?" Chuck said dangerously, his voice a threat wrapped in velvet.

"Wait, What?" Serena gaped at him dumfounded.

"You don't know," Chuck said, un-expectantly startled by this new revelation. Blair's decision wasn't as set in stone as she had made it seem. If she had yet to inform Serena of her choice, there was something that was holding her back, something he was willing to bet had to do with their son and what was best for him.

"The baby is a boy? You're having a boy?" Serena squeaked. Leaping from the table she grabbed the lapels of Chuck's Armani suit, pulling him into a hug. "This is wonderful! I can't wait to tell everyone."

"Please do, tell everyone. In fact I think you should announce it to the world," Chuck said deviously, even as he smiled with innocence. "Lady Blair Errol is having Chuck Bass's baby," Chuck called out loudly to the other diners attempting to enjoy their meals. He didn't flinch in the least as his declaration was met with titters, whispers and a few annoyed stares.

"Chuck," Serena hissed loudly, "What on earth are you doing."

"Planting a seed," Chuck said, placidly as if he hadn't just had an outburst during dinner service at one of London's most exclusive restaurants. Gently, Chuck slid his palms over her hands, lifting them from his lapels and holding them gently in his own hands. "I need you Serena and I am calling in my debt. You helped Blair keep one son from me, don't let her keep another too."

"I don't understand." Serena blinked at him, her eyes filled with confusion. "How is she keeping him from you, you are the father."

Chuck looked at her with frustration written in the hard angles and planes of his face. For the first time, Serena looked at him, really looked at him. His face was worn and haggard as if he hadn't slept in days. To an outsider he looked as cool, collected and put together as always, but to her, someone who had known him since childhood, she could now see how closely he was hanging by a thread.

This time it was her who gently led him back to the table. "Tell me, what has Blair done now?" Her voice was soft and encouraging.

"She's willing to marry me…" Chuck hesitated, taking a deep drink of his scotch. "Only if I allow her dead husband to be listed as the father of our son. She wants me to give up all legal rights to our child."

"Oh, Blair," Serena sighed, running her fingers agitatedly thorough her hair. "What is she thinking?"

"She isn't thinking, that's the problem," Chuck said grimly. "She is reacting purely on emotion. She is feeling so guilty over Cedric's death that she is grasping at any straws she can to have him back in her life, even if it means giving him our son." Chuck drained the remainder of his scotch in one gulp. "I know she loved Cedric and I get that I am doomed to spend the rest of my life haunted by his presence in our relationship, but I will be damned if he is going to get my son," Chuck vowed, his eyes fierce and determined.

Serena's hand reached out to touch Chuck's arm gently. "Chuck —" she started only to be interrupted.

"Don't, Serena," Chuck snapped, yanking his arm away from her. "Don't tell me to be patient or any other of those ridiculous platitudes people use for pacification. Just tell me you will help me."

"I'll talk to her," Serena said kindly, surprising herself and Chuck.

Chuck's breathed a heavy sigh of relief, smoothing the lines of stress and tension that had resided on his brow for days. "Thank you, Serena," he said gratefully. "Anything you want, anything at all, ask and it is yours."

"I'm not doing it for you or for any debt that I may or may not owe you," she warned, catching his eye determinedly. "I'm doing it for your son. He deserves to know who he is, where he came from. I won't have the two of you making a mess of this child's life before he is even born."

Chuck inclined his head in agreement. "I want only what is best for my son," he affirmed solemnly, his heart rooted deep within in his words.

"I can't promise anything," Serena cautioned, afraid to get his hopes up. "I don't even know if she will listen to me."

"She will listen to you," Chuck said with finality, catching the waiter's eye and tapping his empty glass of scotch. "You are the one person that has been there since the beginning, and for that reason alone she will listen to you."

Serena hoped he was right, for his sake and that of her future nephew.

* * *

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers: aabbyy, Ziah, Nicoley117-LadyBlueMartini, lamargaux, poptartphreak, uncorazonquebrado, sweetshorti868, QuieraStrawberry9, choco_dreamer, poochbello, Pao, Kensley-Jackson, Madeleinex, Katertots, annablake, TeamSophia, Stella296, odyjha, Rhea Bleu, 24hrscout, Arazadia, ggobzezzed, BrittyKay247, Krazy4Spike, Chris, :D, abelard, 3venst4r, SnowedUnderNJ, GreekLia, Shanynde, TriGemini and Felicia. I really appreciate all of you continuing to stick with this story. :D

Thanks also to my lovely and very patient beta, Madeleinex. Thanks are also due to Wendy for her wonderful insight.


	14. Chapter 14

Serena couldn't believe the changes she saw as she entered the Errol Townhouse. The home once filled with gaiety and love was as stale and dark as a mausoleum. Walking into the master suite, Serena realized nothing had changed since the last time she had been there. Everything was still just as Cedric liked it; from the books alphabetized by title and subject to his velvet slippers and robe placed prominently in front of the fireplace. It was as if the house was on edge, waiting with bated breath for the day he might return. What had once been the center of Blair's happiness now seemed a tomb.

Pausing to take in the scene before her, Serena's heart broke at what she saw. Darkness surrounded Blair like a shroud. The only light that blessed the room came from the antique candelabras that stood at either side of the dressing table. Reclining on the antique four-poster bed and surrounded by leather embossed albums and photographs of her dead husband was Blair.

"Blair," Serena greeted, forcing a cheery tone into her voice. Walking over to her friend she held her arms out demanding a hug. Blair languorously rose in a wave of rippling silk as the hem of her ivory negligee floated to the floor. It was Serena who made the first steps to enfold her friend in her arms.

Standing stiffly in Serena's arms, Blair warily hugged her back. "What are you doing in London, Serena?" she asked, her heart fluttering oddly at this unexpected visit.

"I just thought I would come visit my best friend in the world," Serena replied, unable to hide the evasive tone in her voice.

Blair untangled her arms from Serena's blonde cascading locks of hair. Standing still she studied the blonde, brown eyes locking on blue.

"You just thought you would come half way around the world to say hi without bothering to call first?" Blair asked suspiciously.

Serena laughed hollowly. "I thought maybe you would like some company. It hasn't been that long since Cedric…" Serena's voice trailed off when Blair flinched as if she had been struck.

"I know exactly how long it's been since Cedric died," Blair replied acidly. "Do you think I haven't counted the days down to the hours and minutes since he has been gone?" A hysterical edge crept into her voice, one that made Serena stop and take another look at her best friend.

Blair, while perfectly coifed as always, did not look herself. Faint smudges like thumbprints rested beneath her beautiful eyes and her skin was as pale and translucent as gossamer. Blair was a pale ghost of herself and Serena was afraid if she even blinked Blair would disappear in front of her eyes.

"Blair, you have got to stop dwelling like this. You promised before I left for New York that you were done wallowing. Cedric would never have wanted you to live like this." Serena said, giving Blair her most pleading look.

"Don't Serena, just don't. You have no idea what Cedric would want or not want, you could hardly be bothered to get to know him in all the years we were married." Blair said coldly, turning away from Serena and seating herself in Cedric's favorite chair.

"Maybe because it never felt right," Serena sighed, brushing her hair behind her ears with her fingertips as she searched for the right way to explain how she felt. "I know that he made you feel special, that he worshipped the ground you walked on, but the man was perfectly willing to raise another man's son as his own without even giving a thought to the real father."

"So this is about Chuck. I should have known he would send for you," Blair said coldly, almost shaking with anger. "I offer to marry him, give myself to him, let him have his son in his life in all but name, but still it isn't enough. He has to have it all."

"Blair, you didn't walk into this blindly. Of anyone you knew what Chuck was like and yet of all the possible sperm donors in the world you chose him." Blair started to interrupt, but Serena would have none of it. "There is only one reason I think you came to Chuck that night. You love him, you have always loved him and when given a choice you found you could never have a child with anyone other than Chuck."

Blair's mouth dropped open, aghast. "It wasn't like that," she denied, refusing to look at Serena.

"It was exactly like that." Serena said with a hard edge to her tone. Blair had lived in her fantasy long enough. Serena would force the princess to awaken not with a kiss, but with the truth. "If Cedric hadn't been so horribly hung up on a woman that could never love him the same way she loved a teenage fling he would have seen the truth. He never should have married you or agreed to give his name to another man's child. What the two of you did was wrong and it was partly my fault for staying silent all these years.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Blair cried angrily, her nails digging into the leather of the chaise lounge.

"I know exactly what I am talking about. You were perfectly willing to set up the same deception once more. What I don't understand is why Cedric would have gone through with it. He had to have been messed up beyond belief to agree to such a scheme."

"Cedric was not messed up!" Blair shouted, wiping away the tears that overflowed from her eyes.

It was breaking Serena's heart to see Blair like this, she wanted to stop, but she was past the point of no return. Blair had been allowed to wander blindly for too long. "He was so in love with you that he allowed you to sleep with another man - a man he knew you loved - in order to give you the child you wanted. I am sorry Blair, but that is the definition of dysfunction.

"Is that what you came here to do?" Blair sobbed openly into her hands, her tears glimmering on the pristine white lace of her negligee like dew. "Tarnish every memory I have of Cedric? "

"No, Blair." Serena said softly. "My only priority is to you and my nephew. Having the two of you living in the shadow of a dead man is not healthy and not something Cedric would have wanted. All he lived for was your happiness or he never would have allowed things to progress as far as they did. His only fault was loving you too much."

Blair's voice cracked, as she fought to control her tears. "I loved him too. I really did."

Serena sighed heavily, "I know you did, but it wasn't the same. He knew it, lived with it, and loved you anyway." Reaching out to Blair, Serena enfolded her in her arms and Blair like a child to its mother laid her head on her chest. Running her fingers through Blair's curls, Serena attempted to soothe her best friend. Offer comfort the only way she knew how. "Knowing this about him I know that he would be devastated to see you like this."

"At least Cedric loved me for me," Blair said bitterly. " For Chuck I am the one that got away. It is all just another game to him. He is willing to do anything in his power to have his son and that unfortunately means he needs me."

"Blair, don't be ridiculous. Chuck loves you, has always loved you. Hasn't he stalked you from the ends of the earth, desperate to have you even before he knew about the baby? If that isn't love, Chuck Bass style, I don't know what is." Serena asked laughingly.

"Have me," Blair said wildly. "It makes me sound like a possession he has to own, something he thinks will fill the hole that exists in his heart. Now with the baby he thinks he can have it all."

"It isn't like that, Blair," Serena soothed. "Didn't you agree to marry him, anyway?"

Blair pulled away from Serena, wiping her tears away with the corner of her nightgown. "Yes, as a bargaining chip," she said coldly.

Serena stared Blair down, the silence in the room growing heavier with each second until Blair couldn't take it. "Fine, maybe there was more to it than that," Blair said wringing her hands, and fidgeting like a mouse caught in a trap.

"Why won't you admit you love him?" Serena asked, with confusion.

"Fine, will that make you happy? I love him. But I won't be a possession. I won't be used at his will and then tossed aside when he tires of me. I am not a human incubator for his precious heir!" Blair cried passionately.

"Blair, you are being unfair. Have you mentioned any of this to Chuck?" Serena asked gently.

"No," Blair said shaking her head emphatically. "I am willing to marry him if I get what I want. It is the only way I can retain control of the situation."

Serena looked at Blair aghast. "Blair, saddling your son with a dead man as a father is cruel. He deserves to know who his real father is and where he comes from.

"I was never going to deny Chuck his son," Blair said defensively.

"No, you were just going to give Cedric his son. Blair, you know that is legally and morally wrong," Serena added sarcastically.

"What can I do?" Blair asked, her eyes dark and tragic. "After everything Cedric did for me how can I let his legacy die? I owe him this, the continuation of his line."

"But it won't be his line you will be continuing. Don't you see that? Your son will never be an Errol. He will always be a Bass _pretending_ to be an Errol. You will be giving him an identity crisis from the time he is born. Cedric would never have wanted to do that to an innocent child?"

"But he did, that was the plan," Blair argued.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe your outrageous plan is what led him to kill himself?" Serena said bluntly, holding back no punches. "Maybe he no longer wanted to live a lie. He was already dying so he sacrificed himself to give you what you always wanted, a chance at a family with Chuck. If he wanted this child as his own he would have lingered until the bitter end, making sure by the time of his death that the child carried his name."

Pain lashed itself like a whip across Blair's face. The truth spoken so easily by Serena hit her full force, choking the breath from her lungs. "What am I to do?" Blair asked in a thick broken voice.

"You don't have to marry Chuck, but you do have to acknowledge him as the father of your son. In fact it might be best if you don't get married," Serena conceded, gravely. "The two of you have a lot of issues to work out and marriage may not be the best decision right now for either of you."

"You don't understand, Serena. Marry him or not he will never let me go," Blair said quietly, sitting herself back on the bed tiredly.

"Do you really want him to?" Serena asked, looking at Blair with large knowing eyes.

"No," Blair whispered hoarsely, twisting her fingers together until her knuckles were white.

Serena sat next to Blair on the bed, clasping her hand in hers she forced Blair's fingers to relax. "Then promise me you will talk to him."

"I will. Only this time there will be no more games. No more forced limousine rides due to disappearing employees." Blair said grimly.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Serena said looking at Blair with a puzzled expression.

"He didn't mention that he paid off my driver to leave me stranded at the clinic the day we had our ultrasound?" Blair asked lightly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"No," Serena replied slowly, frowning.

"Of course, he didn't," Blair scoffed. "Obviously he told you about the baby, that we are having a son, but he didn't bother to inform you of the way he manipulated the situation so I would be forced to spend time with him."

"Which by the way, I believe congratulations are in order," Serena all but squealed, conveniently ignoring Chuck's latest scheme. "I'm going to have a nephew!"

Blair's face lit up like the heavens as she reached out to caress her abdomen through the thin silk of her nightgown. "I know. I can't believe I am having a son."

Serena leaned in over Blair, her face parallel to Blair's abdomen, her voice softening to a coo. "You're going to be the most spoiled little boy ever, yes, you are."

"Between you, Chuck and my parents this little guy is going to be a spoiled brat," Blair said with a laugh, rolling her eyes.

"Just like his parents," Serena said fondly, squeezing Blair's hand as she rose to leave.

Blair smiled sadly, her eyes once more fixed on the photographs of Cedric that lay all over the bed. "He would have been a good father."

"I know. It will get easier, B. I promise," Serena said softly. "Just give it time."

Blair nodded as she slowly began to gather up the photographs, her fingertips lingering over each one as if they were precious gifts.

"Lunch tomorrow and maybe shopping?" Serena asked, brightly. "Since Chuck isn't having me flown back until tomorrow night and he is paying all of my expenses we might as well make use of his generosity."

Laying the last photograph back in its album, Blair closed the lid with a heavy heart. "Well, I think Chuck owes you at the very least a new wardrobe now, don't you, for making you come so far?" Blair asked teasingly, her eyes finally showing a bit of the spark that Serena loved so well.

"There's that, and Nate and I have been looking for some new art for the penthouse," Serena teased.

"Ugh, more of that modern stuff?" Blair shuddered in distaste. "By all means waste Chuck's money on that," she said slyly knowing exactly how Chuck felt about Serena's and Nate's taste in decor.

As Blair walked her friend out the bedroom door she gathered her in her arms impulsively. "Thank you, for coming, S," Blair whispered. Tears once more prickling her eyes.

Serena hugged her back, swallowing hard. "Always, B."

* * *

Thanks to all my amazing reviewers: JYLlian, 24hrscout, blair4eva, yeeww, TriGemini, Kensley-Jackson, ggxoxo, Kuku Mademoiselle., Ziah, sweetshorti868, cavanaugh-girl, Lil Miss Chuckles, flipped, abelard, CanYouSayItTwice, annablake, guardian izz, Stella296, Nicoley117-LadyBlueMartini, and 3venst4r. You humble and inspire me…

Thanks also to my lovely beta, Camilla (uncorazonquebrado).


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